Sing to Me
by DreamonLittleOne
Summary: When Katniss volunteers to take her sister's place in the Hunger Games, her father tells her to trust Haymitch, no matter what he says. She reluctantly agrees. When Haymitch tells her that she needs to pretend to be in love with a boy she's never interacted with before, she can't help but reconsider her promise. (Everlark, follows THG)
1. Chapter 1

She is happy because he doesn't have to go to work today. Ever since the accident four years ago, she hates watching him leave for the mines each morning. She had waited for hours into that night, staring at the elevator doors as they opened and closed and opened and closed. He stumbled out on the last car. He took in a deep gulp of fresh, frigid air as she let out her fear in a cloud of hot breath. Today, though, he will not go near that door.

As she passes his and her mother's closed door, she can't help the smile that tickles the edges of her mouth. Her whole family is present and accounted for this morning. She had left her younger sister just moments ago after singing her back to sleep. Her sister's big blue eyes had been bright and wild from her nightmare as she pleaded, "Sing to me?" She had gently pushed her sister's small frame back against the mattress and smiled.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow," she sings under her breath as she closes the front door quietly behind her. "A bed of grass, a soft green pillow." She glances around in the dim light that precedes the rising sun. "Lay down your head, and close you sleepy eyes." The world is silent and unmoving, like Prim had been when she had finally fallen back into rest. "And when again they open, the sun will rise."

There has not been a single person or even a set of prying eyes during her entire walk, but she looks around again out of habit when she reaches the fence. As she does, she leans close to the wires to make sure the electricity has not been turned on for some reason. Once satisfied that she is alone and the fence is off, she slips through to the other side.

"Here it's safe, here it's warm." The long grass and summer wildflowers brush along the ankles of her boots before she disappears into the forest. "Here the daisies guard you from every harm." She extracts her bow and arrows from a hollow log before continuing along the familiar path. "Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true." There is a break in the trees ahead and she can start to make out the shape of her best friend sitting on the rock ledge that overlooks the valley.

"Hey, Catnip," he calls to her in his deep voice without turning around.

"Hey, Gale," she says as her eyebrows draw together.

There is half a grin on his face as he turns his head. "I heard you coming."

"Bullsh-"

"Okay, I didn't _hear_ you. All the birds went quiet and I figured your dad wouldn't be coming out here today, so it must have been you."

She nods as she settles down beside him.

"How come I've never heard you sing?" Gale asks as he hands her half of a loaf of bread.

The bread is still warm when it touches her hands. She hides her smile in its soft insides as she presses it to her nose. It's real bakery bread-the kind of bread they only get for special occasions. Even with her dad working in the mines, her mother's occasional healing work, and the spoils from hunting, buying things from town is still a luxury. Their "wealth," compared to the meager existence of most of the people from their part of the district, only means that she has not had to sign up for government tesserae. This situation is unusual for people around her, including Gale. His father did not return on that fateful day at the mines. When she and her father met him in the woods soon after the accident, Gale's, his mother's, and his three younger siblings' fates became intricately tied to theirs. It took time, but she slowly knocked down his walls and her father carefully worked his way through enough of Gale's pride to let them help him. Gale only agreed when her father made the partnership seem equally mutually beneficial.

"How much did you have to pay for this?" she asks.

"Only a squirrel. I think the old man was feeling sentimental. He even wished me good luck."

"Well, we all feel a little closer today, don't we?" she muses as she picks at the crust.

"Katniss?"

Katniss looks up and remembers that he asked her a question. "Oh," she starts as she pulls cheese from her sister's goat out of her bag. "I don't really sing to anyone except Prim and that's only when she has nightmares."

It isn't a lie. She doesn't talk a lot to begin with, so she doesn't know why Gale would expect her to _sing_. Her father is the charismatic one. He smiles and he sings. When he sings, not only do people stop to listen, and the birds, but the entire world does, too. When he sings, she smiles.

"Your dad sings all the time," he points out through a mouthful of cheese, bread, and basil.

"Yeah, and he scares all the game away when he does."

Gale tosses his head back as he laughs. "Sometimes I don't know how you two are related. He's so much nicer than you are."

He doesn't stop laughing even when she kicks his boot with the heel of her own. She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he says as he lifts himself from the ground to pull some berries off of a nearby bush. He clears his throat as he faces her and lifts his head in what she supposes is a prim and proper manner. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds..."

He tosses a berry towards her and she leans to catch it in her mouth. She bites down and, as the delicious juice rolls across her tongue, says, "...be ever in your favor."

The smile that appears on his face spreads to her cheeks, as well, if only for a moment. He plops down beside her again and they look out across the valley. The tops of the green trees stretch far past the horizon. They sway with the wind in a slow, romantic dance in the sunlight. Everywhere Katniss looks, there are mountains that don't reach high enough to break the tree line. They are old. In school, they don't say how old, but they're old mountains. They've seen so much-too much. They were there before Panem, before the Dark Days, before whatever was there before that. They've been here so long that the weight of everything is pushing them back into the ground. Maybe it's so there won't be any more reminders of what used to be. Then everyone can pretend the past never happened.

"We could do it, you know."

Katniss looks over at Gale, waiting for him to continue.

"Go. Leave," he says, nodding out towards nothing in particular. "Leave the district and live in the woods. We could make it."

"We could," she says quietly, thinking about Prim and then about Gale's siblings, Rory, Vick, and little Posy. "Maybe we could if we didn't have so many kids."

He shrugs before falling silent.

After another moment, Katniss says, "I never want to have kids."

"I might. If I didn't live here."

"But you do."

"I know," he replies. The muscles in his cheek bulge as he grinds his teeth. "I don't need you to remind me."

She looks at him for a second before turning back to the valley. He wouldn't have a problem finding a wife if he wanted kids. He's tall and good-looking. She sees how all the girls look at him at school. She also sees the looks they give her as she stays glued to his side. She's glad they notice her, even if it is because they're tired of her always keeping Gale occupied. Good hunting partners are hard to come by. Her father is, of course, the best, but anything can happen. Gale knows that too well, which is one of the reasons it took him so long to befriend her. Now that he has, she sticks by him and him by her. They'll make it together.

When they finish their meal, they decide to go fishing and foraging for something nice for dinner. If everyone makes it back for dinner, there is definitely reason to celebrate.


	2. Chapter 2

On their way home, Katniss and Gale stop at the Hob, the black market in the district. They are easily the youngest people there. Gale fits right in, having looked like a full grown man since they met. Katniss, on the other hand, looks much more like the sixteen year-old girl she is.

"Well, look at this pretty little thing."

The voice is attached to a redheaded Peacekeeper named Darius. He prefers to fill his belly with fresh game and share drinks lawbreakers rather than enforce Panem's strict commandments. He also enjoys teasing Katniss every chance he gets.

"Hi, Darius," she says as she busies herself accepting salt in exchange for two fish.

"Did you turn eighteen recently or something?" Darius asks as he leans close to her. "I don't see Daddy or that big scary escort you're usually dragging everywhere. Finally convinced them you can run around on your own?"

"He's not my escort."

"Bodyguard," he quickly corrects, putting a hand up in apology. "Regardless, I don't think you need your body guarded by-"

"Ready to go, Catnip?"

Katniss does not even look up at Gale towering over Darius before saying, "Yes."

"Aw, we were just starting to get along," Darius whines.

He laughs and gives Gale a good-natured pat on the arm before waltzing off to find another way to entertain himself. Gale watches him leave with narrow eyes.

"Come on," Katniss says through gritted teeth as she pulls him away.

"What's he even doing here today? Shouldn't he be out smacking kids and kicking puppies?"

"He's not that bad, Gale. And I don't know. Maybe he doesn't have to be on duty until the...until later."

They don't talk again until they part ways to go to their houses.

"See you soon," she tells him.

"Where something pretty," he replies flatly.

When she gets home, Katniss goes right to the bathroom where she knows her mother will have heated water for a bath. She can hear her family moving around their small house as she sits in the tub. The voices are noticeably quieter and void of laughter. It's like this every year. Even before she turned twelve, it was like this. Her parents are kind, loving people. Of course they don't enjoy the Reaping.

That is not to say that anyone in District 12 enjoys the Reaping. Despite the day off from work and the one event that herds the whole district together, there is no other time when it is harder to smile. The whole thing is a reminder of why they suffer every day. The Capitol of Panem can do anything they want and they do. They reap the children that their people have sown and watch them kill each other in their Hunger "Games". It's sick. Then there's the part where they make all their citizens watch it because it's fun. It's entertainment. It's torture.

Katniss puts on the blue dress her mother has laid out for her once she is done bathing and joins the rest of her family in the kitchen. Prim is pushing scrambled eggs and bacon around her plate. She is wearing Katniss' first reaping outfit-a skirt and blouse. It's too big for her and the back of the shirt is falling out of the waistband.

"Tuck that tail in, little duck," Katniss says as she fixes her sister's shirt.

Prim nearly jumps out of her seat in surprise and then turns back with a scowl. "You scared me."

"Sorry."

"No you're not. You always scare me."

"Only because your reactions are so funny," Katniss says with a smirk before sitting down.

"Be nice to your sister," her father tells her in the same semi-stern tone as he has used the last one hundred times he's said it.

Katniss only smiles fondly at him in response. A plate appears in front of her and she turns her smile to her mother in thanks.

"How's Gale?" her mother asks.

"He's Gale. Same thing today as every other year," Katniss replies, running her finger up and down the handle of her fork.

"Eat," her father cuts in. "Both of you. Katniss, you didn't eat all day last year and I am not dealing with you bitching-"

A loud clearing of the throat and pointed look from her mother causes her father to swallow the rest of the sentence. He looks at her sheepishly.

"Just...eat, please?"

Katniss glances at Prim, who is biting back a smile, before picking up her fork. She likes having her dad at home.

* * *

It's hot in the afternoon. It doesn't help that everyone in the district is crammed into the square. Katniss is hardly aware of the added discomfort, though, as she searches for her sister in the crowd. She doesn't know how they got separated. There's no real reason for her to be worried. Prim has to stand with the other twelve year-olds, anyway, so they had to split up. It's Prim's first Reaping, though. It's the first time that one of the strips of paper in the glass bowl says: "Primrose Everdeen." The nightmare that woke Prim up that morning was about that piece of paper. Katniss wants to reassure her once more that there is no chance of her name being pulled. She shouldn't worry. There's no real reason for her to be worried.

Katniss is shuffled in line with the rest of the girls her age and cranes her neck to try to find Prim's golden braids. When she can't find her, she looks across the aisle to find Gale's eyes already on her.

"You wore something pretty," he mouths, tugging on his own shirt with a smirk.

"You, too," she mouths back before flashing him a rude gesture.

He laughs before facing forward at the sound of the microphone on stage coming to life. Mayor Undersee clears his throat and begins to speak. His daughter, Madge, is also sixteen and the only other person Katniss can call a friend besides Gale. Their friendship was born from the fact that neither of them really fit in with kids their age. The life of a mayor's daughter is easy, so Madge is often alienated. Even kids from town have to work from the time they can stand in order to survive. Despite her means, Madge is quiet and respectful, which Katniss appreciates. Madge told her at lunch during school once that she liked to sit with Katniss because she was the only one who didn't give her weird looks. Katniss almost smiled when she responded by saying that was the same reason she sat with Madge. Everyone knows Katniss hunts illegally and trades at the Hob. A lot of people, especially from town, are afraid to walk to close, as if proximity alone could get them in trouble. The illicit nature of her activities makes her untouchable and she is perfectly content with that status. Mostly it means that she doesn't have to talk more than she wants to, and she doesn't have to pretend she gets along well with other people.

Movement on the stage makes Katniss focus back in on that which she is supposed to be paying attention. Haymitch Abernathy, District 12's only surviving Hunger Games victor, has just been introduced. His feet, weighed down with alcohol, land heavily on the wooden platform with each staggering step he takes. He waves somewhat dismissively in acknowledgement of the crowd and the few pairs of hands that come together. A loud belch is the only thing that comes from his mouth as he falls into a chair. Mayor Undersee looks relieved. Haymitch usually behaves much more poorly when he knows he is being televised.

"Happy Hunger Games!"

Effie Trinket, District 12's escort from the Capitol, has taken over the microphone in an attempt to redirect attention away from Haymitch. She looks like a clown. Her hair is an unnatural shade of pink and her vibrantly colored nails could probably blind someone at close range. Her clothes-which must be uncomfortably hot for a summer afternoon-create odd proportions on her body. Her shoulders are massive, making her arms look like wispy tree branches. The size of her waist would suggest she had been starving for months had she been from anywhere besides the Capitol.

"And," Effie continues with a wide, sparkling smile, "may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

Katniss catches Gale's eye and they share a small smirk. His face quickly turns hard again and eyes fall back to the ground in his defiant posture.

"What an honor it is to be here in such a _wonderful_ district," Effie says. Her ridiculous accent and look of distaste as she says "wonderful" makes any ghost of sincerity dissipate immediately. "I could not be..._happier_ to be here, looking down on all of you fine children. Just thinking about the two lucky ones who will be able to enjoy all the splendors of the Capitol gets me all a-tittle."

"That's not a thing," says a girl behind Katniss, drawing a few strained noises of amusement from those closest to her.

"Now, as always," Effie sings, "ladies first."

All feeling leaves Katniss. Her efforts to make light of the situation-waiting for Haymitch to fall off the stage and trying to figure out whether Effie's hair is real or not-sink down with her stomach, which now feels like it has dropped right out of her. It won't be Prim. She only has one slip and it could be lost for days in the thousands of other slips in the bowl. Madge only has five slips. And anyway, she's the mayor's daughter so they're probably not even allowed to pick her. Effie can read off any name, just not Madge or Prim. They're too nice, too good. They wouldn't survive for a second. Good people don't win the Hunger Games. They're chewed up by the Capitol and sent back home in boxes.

Effie's hand swirls around the inside of the bowl once before she extracts the name of the Capitol's latest victim. She clears her throat as she raises the paper in front of her.

"Primrose Everdeen."

The words echo off of the walls of the buildings around the square. There is a murmur that ripples through the crowd. It's a mixture of relief and fear. The only thing that registers with Katniss, though, is that, in two short seconds, her entire world has ended.


	3. Chapter 3

Primrose Everdeen. Prim. Katniss can feel eyes from everywhere boring into her. She wonders why. Her name was not called. It was clearly "Primrose Everdeen." It was Prim. _Prim_. Katniss has not moved. She has not done anything. Her throat has closed and her entire body feels like it has turned to liquid. Her brain is working so hard and so quickly to comprehend the past thirty seconds that her head is spinning. She can't see clearly until her eyes fall on a pair of small hands tucking in the back of a familiar blouse.

Prim is walking towards the stage. Her knees are nearly knocking together, they're shaking so hard, but she bravely keeps putting one foot in front of the other. For a ephemeral moment, Katniss is proud. That moment is enough to make her move her own feet until she breaks out of the crowd.

"Prim!"

The cry tears painfully through her throat. Her voice sounds hardly like her own. The only other time she was this scared was as she watched the entrance to the mines open and close so many years ago. Now, she is watching as her sister's shoulders move up and down in deep, terrified breaths.

"Prim!" Peacekeepers hold her arms as Katniss tries to run. "No!" They try to push her back. "No! I volunteer!"

She's yelling before she knows it and saying words before she even thinks them. The hands on her loosen and she throws them off before planting her feet firmly on the ground. Her eyes land squarely on Effie.

"I volunteer as tribute."

The square is so silent that Katniss can hear her own heart beat. It is surprisingly steady as she strides towards Prim. The look in her blue eyes would bring Katniss to her knees on any other day. In this moment, though, she knows she needs to be strong. She needs to be the solid ground beneath her sister's feet, the walls that keep her safe. She needs to be a big sister.

"Katniss."

It's more of a squeak than an actual word. Katniss never understood the old expression, "opening the floodgates" until now. One minute Prim's face is dry, and the next it looks like she's been crying for hours. She feels her heart breaking, but knows that if she lets her sister's tears break her resolve, Prim will be dead in a week. Katniss would die a thousand times to stop that from happening.

"Kat...niss...no," Prim sobs as she grips Katniss around the waist.

"Prim, let go," Katniss tells her.

"No! You can't go. I won't let you!"

"Prim, let go!" she repeats more severely.

She is angry. She is angry at Prim for not letting her go-for not understanding that it has to be this way. She is angry at Effie for finding one slip in thousands that has Prim's name on it. She is livid with the Capitol for making this happen. She is frustrated that she cares so much about her life and her family that it hurts this much to leave them. She is angry that she is afraid.

Two large hands extract Prim's arms from Katniss' waist and lift her into the air. Gale looks down at Katniss with an unreadable expression as Prim thrashes in his arms. He clears his throat.

"Up you go, Catnip."

She turns away immediately. She won't allow herself to get caught up in another moment-not after nearly letting Prim make it to the stage. Gale knows how she feels. He doesn't even need to see the look on her face to know. That's why he was a good hunting partner. That's why she is afraid to leave him, too.

"Oh, how lovely!"

Effies voice splits the silence so harshly that Katniss winces. She is on the stage, staring out at the faces she has seen day in and day out for sixteen years. For once, they all stare back.

"A volunteer," Effie chimes. "This is so wonderful. What's your name, dear?"

"Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

"Oh, well I would bet my buttons that was your sister, wasn't it?"

Katniss nods.

"How about a round of applause for our newest tribute?"

No one claps. No one moves. Then, after a very long moment, someone's hand shifts. First, he touches his fingers to his lips, and then raises them high above the heads of the crowd. Others follow. It's an old, rarely used sign of District 12. She had asked her father about it the first time she saw someone do it at a funeral. He told her it means "thank you." It means "I admire you." It means "goodbye" to someone you love.

Katniss finds her father. He is stretching his hand as high as it will go. Her mother is clinging to his other arm with silent tears rolling down her cheeks. His gaze is steady, though, because he needs to be the ground beneath her feet, the walls that protect her. He needs to be her father. She straightens up and pushes her shoulders back.

"Everdeen?" Haymitch yells out with a laugh as he stumbles forward to stand next to her. "Well I'll be damned. I already like you. Hell of a..." He burps. "Hell of a lot of _spunk_. More than you," he says, still looking at her. She hardly has time to be confused before he rounds on the cameras and repeats in a rebel yell, "More than you!"

The gravity of the moment takes its toll on Haymitch. He tumbles off the stage and doesn't move when he hits the ground.

"It's time to choose our boy tribute," Effie screams into the microphone.

Katniss looks to her father again and remembers to stand tall. He gives her a curt nod. He is proud of her. That alone is enough. She holds his eyes with the same intensity with which he holds onto her mother and Prim.

"Peeta Mellark."

Effie's voice is background noise. Katniss doesn't need to know who the male tribute is. It doesn't matter. It only matters that she makes her father proud.

"Well go on, now. Shake hands."

She did not even notice that he made it up to the stage. Her leg twitches with the effort it takes to move after being rooted to the stage for so long. His hand is extended towards her. She considers it for a moment before shaking it once. Then, not waiting to be dismissed, she turns to go into the Justice Building.

Peacekeepers usher her to a neatly furnished room. Just before they close the door, she feels a squeeze on her elbow. She looks up into the black visor and only sees the reflection of her face. He says nothing, but as he turns to leave, she can see a red curl peeking out from beneath his helmet.

"Bye," she whispers as the door snaps shut.

Before she has time to let the reality of her situation sink in, the door opens again. Prim flies into her and buries her head in Katniss' chest. Her mother's arms are next around her shoulders and her father encircles them all. Katniss is sure her legs would have given out without her family holding her up. Her father kisses her forehead and she looks at him. His expression reminds her that she is strong. She is a survivor. She is his daughter. She won't cry.

"I love you, baby girl," her mother says into her ear.

"I love you, too, Mom."

Her smile is steady, but Katniss can see the tear tracks down her cheeks. Her mother strokes Katniss' braid once before pulling Prim away. Her father steps in front of her and puts his hands on her shoulders.

"Katniss," he starts, looking directly into her eyes.

She waits for him to continue, but he looks like he's lost his voice. "Daddy?"

His lower lip trembles before he steels himself again. "Katniss, listen very closely to me right now. You will be okay. You will get out. You will come home."

"Dad, I-"

"You _will._ This is not a discussion. You must trust me."

"I do."

"Trust Haymitch."

"But Dad-"

"Trust him," he says forcefully. "If he tells you to run, you run. If he tells you to smile, you smile. If he tells you to trust someone else, you trust them with your life."

He has never spoken of Haymitch before. She doesn't know how he can place so much faith in him now. He's a drunk-an angry drunk-and everyone knows that. He just fell off the stage on national television. He taunted the _Capitol_. He has never brought a tribute home alive in his 23 years of being a mentor. There is no way he knows anything worthwhile.

"Say it to me right now. Say you'll trust him."

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

Her father's eyes are burning with a fire she has never seen before. She unconsciously draws away in surprise, but he holds her firmly. He knows something she does not.

"I'll trust Haymitch," she says.

"Good." The fire softens to a warm glow. "Katniss, sweetie, remember that we love you. Remember that when you're in there. If you do, you'll be okay. It doesn't matter what happens. No matter what you do in the arena," he tells her, annunciating every syllable carefully, "we will never stop loving you."

"I know."

He smiles at her and for the first time, she sees water lining his eyes. When he straightens up, Prim seizes the chance to throw herself into Katniss again. Despite herself, Katniss laughs. The grins that spread across her parents' faces, watery as they may be, is worth it. They all hold each other again.

"You have to win," Prim whispers. "You have to."

Katniss feels her heart pound against her chest. She swallows and says, "I'll try."

"No. You can win. You have to come back to me. Promise me."

Katniss lifts her head to look at her mother and father. They both know that no matter how smart or fast or good a hunter she is, she can never make that promise. But Prim doesn't want to know, so she won't tell her.

"I promise, little duck," she says, kissing her blond hair.

"Time."

Two peacekeepers enter the room to escort her family out. The coldness and the fear she feels when their arms leave her makes her heart catch and her muscles seize. Little Prim gives her a brave smile and her mother places a last kiss on cheek before they are forced to leave.

"Trust him," her father reminds her.

Her face must show her reluctance, or perhaps even a total loss of hope, because his eyes are set ablaze again.

"You know," he says as he puts his hand on the doorknob, "I would drink, too, if I were a victor-if I was forced to watch 24 kids slaughter each other every single year. There's more to him than you think."

Katniss' eyes widen as the door closes. She expected treasonous talk from Haymitch, who she assumes is usually too drunk to know what he's talking about, but not from her father. He hunts, or "poaches" technically, but he doesn't speak out against the Capitol. He knows what sort of trouble that could get his family into. He leaves the rash talk to Gale.

When he comes in, Gale covers her up with his massive body. She clutches onto the back of his shirt and presses her face into his shoulder. He smells like wood smoke and fresh soil. He smells like the freedom he talked about earlier in the morning. Part of her does wish that they had left, but she knows that she never could have gone. Who else would have volunteered for Prim?

"I'm okay," she says, fighting the sobs that are piling up in her throat.

"I know," he replies. "And you're gonna be fine."

"You know that's not true."

"Yes, it is. All you need to do is show them how good you are. All they want is a good show. They couldn't give two shits about who actually wins as long as people watch. They'll give you a bow and knives and tools to make snares if they know it'll keep people watching."

A bow, knives, and snares. They're all meant to do one thing. She silently begs him not to say it.

"You're the best hunter I know," he says quietly. "Better than your dad-he told me himself."

"That's...that's animals, Gale."

He gently cups her head in his hands. "It's no different. It's just everything trying to survive. It's no different."

The door opens again and Gale glances over his shoulder. He turns back to her. His jaw is set. She puts her hands on his wrists and is about to say goodbye when he leans forward and kisses her.


	4. Chapter 4

For the second time that day, Katniss is shocked into senselessness. When Gale pulls back, he takes her breath with him. She can't even manage to say "goodbye" when he says "I'll see you soon."

Years ago, Katniss and her father went ice fishing on their lake out in the woods. "Go slowly and crawl on your belly if find yourself on thin ice," he warned her when she got up from her spot next to their hole. "Don't worry about me, Daddy." She started skating across the ice, like he had told her people used to do for fun. He said they used to jump and twirl and dance like magical fairies too graceful to be real. She didn't understand how they could be that graceful. Her boots only slipped around awkwardly. The jumping must have been the good part. So she leapt up into the air and laughed as she spun around. She barely heard her father yell before her heel broke the ice.

The air in her lungs felt like it had frozen. The water immediately penetrated each layer of clothing to bite hungrily at her skin. She tried to yell, but her lips were not working. She couldn't close her eyes to keep her tears from freezing. She could only hear the water rushing around her, pulling her down and down and down.

Her father had been there to pull her from the lake. He had carried her to the old cottage on the shore and stripped off every layer he had put on her before they left. He had wrapped her in his own clothes and lit a roaring fire. She warmed up slowly.

In the room in the Justice Building, no one comes to put a jacket on her shoulders. No one rubs her arms and toes until the feeling comes back. Her lungs stay frozen and her eyes stay wide. Gale isn't supposed to care about her like that. He knows how she feels. That's why they are best friends. She never wants to have kids and she never wants to get married. She won't fall in love because if you do, it's just an invitation for something terrible to happen. Like this. Her mother and father fell in love and got married and had kids and now they're going to have to watch their oldest daughter be killed for entertainment.

"You have one minute."

A girl with honey-colored hair and dark blue eyes enters the room. She walks straight up to Katniss and says, "Will you wear this?"

Katniss doesn't say anything. She's still staring at the spot where Gale's head disappeared.

"Katniss. Katniss, listen to me."

The urgent tone snaps Katniss back to reality. She looks to its source and, where she expects to see her father, she sees Madge Undersee.

"You're allowed to wear one thing from your district in the arena. Will you wear this?"

"I...what?"

"Katniss, this is a mockingjay," Madge says quickly as she fastens a gold pin to the front of Katniss' dress. "They're what happened when the Capitol left the jabberjays out to die. They found mockingbirds - a way to survive anyway. They made it, just like you're going to."

Everyone is so sure that she is going to live. That's what they're supposed to say, though, because you can't tell someone who's about to die that she is going to die. It's the hope that people hold onto to make it through the Games. Of course, it just gets crushed under the Capitol's foot. Katniss doesn't trust to hope, just like she doesn't trust to love.

"Promise me that you'll wear it," Madge says.

Now it's Prim's eyes she sees.

"I promise," she says firmly.

"Thank you."

Madge hugs Katniss tightly for a second and then hurries out of the room. Katniss smiles as she touches the pin. It really is beautiful.

There is commotion outside the door. A peacekeeper is telling someone that there's no more time for visitors. Katniss doesn't know who else could be coming to see her. Greasy Sae, maybe. The old woman who runs the soup kitchen at the Hob would have smacked the peacekeeper by now, though.

"I just need to give her these!"

The baker's voice is loud and demanding as he shoves through the door. It is incredibly unlike him, though she can't claim to know him that well, and much more like his wife. Whenever Katniss would trade with him, he was soft-spoken and kind, but everyone avoids the baker's wife. Her father avoids trading at the bakery altogether. He lets her and Gale go while he keeps a look out. The two times that the wife caught her husband trading with "Seam scum," she came at them with a rolling pin.

So when the baker walks towards her, she can't help but think that he's going to hear it he gets home. Maybe he already has. There are dried tears down his face and the end of his nose is red. He holds out a brown paper bag, much like the ones he uses for trades (they're not as expensive as the bleached, white ones for customers, so his wife is less likely to notice they're missing). Katniss' hand twitches towards her hip where her game bag usually hangs.

He shakes his head with a small smile. "It's a gift, sweet girl, not a trade or a handout."

She nods and takes the bag. There are cookies inside, the likes of which her family could only afford once a year.

"Thank you, Mr. Mellark," she whispers.

As soon as the words pass her lips, her throat closes up again and she's glad it does because she feels like she's going to puke. He nods and places his hand on her shoulder. She is surprised her knees don't buckle. He looks like he wants to say something, but how could he? He can't possibly wish her luck and tell her that she's strong. He can't remind her that she always hits his squirrels right in the eye, and that skill will help her. He can't really wish that she's going to live, but then, that doesn't have to mean that he wants her to die.

Before she can stop herself, Katniss flings her arms around Mr. Mellark. He doesn't hesitate to hug her back. For the first time today, she can't stop her tears.

"I'm sorry," she says into his chest.

She doesn't know what she's sorry for exactly. Sorry that this happened. Sorry that he's so sad.

"Me, too," he replies as he rocks her gently back and forth. "Just so you know, I'll never think any less of you."

"My dad said the same thing."

Mr. Mellark takes a moment to step back and look at her. "Your father and I have always been of a similar mind when it comes to the important things in life. Good luck, Katniss."

She stares at him blankly until he is gone. The door does not even shut before peacekeepers come in to take her away. They lead her to the back of the building where a set of double doors leads out onto the street. There is a shiny black car waiting for them. She is ushered to the far side of the car and into the open door.

She has never been in a car before, but she doesn't like the way this one smells. It might just be Effie's perfume, though. The escort's clown face is far too close for Katniss' liking and she looks far too excited to see one of her tributes. She begins to talk immediately when Katniss sits down, but once she says the word "Capitol," Katniss stops listening.

The door on the opposite side opens and Katniss jerks her head to look at him as he climbs in. Peeta Mellark has been crying. His blond hair is ruffled and jaw keeps flexing as he tries to hold everything in. He leans down as the door shuts and covers his face with one of his broad hands. The hand looks much like his father's in size and shape, but there's also something delicate about it. Perhaps it's the lack of scaring from having been working with ovens not even half as long as his father. That's not it, though. Even the scars are beautiful.

Katniss throws her weight against the back of the seat and stares straight forward. She has never spoken a word to Peeta and here she is admiring his faults. He has always existed in her periphery, as the back turned away from her working in the bakery kitchen or as the boy who always answers questions correctly in school. Now, as she remembers him, she sees the way his back flexes under his white shirt as he kneads dough and hears the low rumble in his voice that might feel nice in her ear.

"You might have to kill him," she thinks as she takes a deep breath. "He might have to kill you. He won't kill you. Look at him, sobbing over there. But you might have to kill him. You promised Prim that you'd come home. He doesn't matter."

The sound of the car starting startles Katniss so badly that she accidentally crushes one of the cookies in her hand. "It's a gift, sweet girl," he had said. "Good luck," he wished her. It would be a lot easier to hate his son if Mr. Mellark had just slapped her face and threatened her.

There is a crowd at the train station when they arrive. Katniss spins around twice, looking for her family or Gale or Madge. She walks up the steps to the platform backwards, still searching.

"Big smiles!" Effie says.

Cameras start flashing, making it very difficult to see the crowd. Effie is saying something about standing still and looking excited, but Katniss ignores her. It is only when someone pulls her towards the train that she takes her eyes from the people. The hand on her wrist is warm and reassuring and, somehow, understanding. Peeta isn't smiling at her. He is begging her to not make this harder because he doesn't want to leave either. She follows him onto the train.

For a moment she forgets that the train is taking her from her family and her life. The car they have entered is everything Katniss ever imagined luxury to be and more. Even the wooden tables shine. The fruit in one of the bowls is so large and perfect that it can't be real. There's crystal and marble and windows so clean that they look like they are not even there.

When she looks through the window, there are no people anymore. Katniss runs and presses her hands against the glass. Just like that, it's gone. Her home is gone and she missed it.

"I know, it's wonderful, isn't it?" Effie says. "250 miles per hour and you can barely feel a thing. We'll be in the Capitol in less than a day. Isn't it exciting?"

To keep from lashing out, Katniss focuses on the trees that are flying by the train.

"Yes, ma'am. We're very excited."

Katniss whips around to glare at Peeta, but his smile is so fake that only someone from the Capitol could believe it.

"Oh, Peeta, please call me Effie. So polite! Maybe I won't have to deal with ill-mannered children yet again this year. Speaking of, let me go find Haymitch. He was _supposed_ to be here to greet us."

They watch her shuffle away. Katniss leans her forehead against the window. Peeta's footsteps are heavy when he finally moves. She watches his reflection sit down on one of the large chairs in the middle of the car. He is sitting up straight on the edge of the seat, as if he knows how out of place he looks. They both must look ridiculous. They are in their finest dress, their hair is brushed, and their faces are clean. People in the Capitol would use their clothes as rags, throw wigs on their heads, and cover their skin with makeup.

Haymitch enters the room. He walks slowly and gingerly, but his steps are much steadier than they were a couple of hours ago. As soon as his back hits the chair, Peeta speaks up.

"So, what's the plan? When do we start?"

Haymitch doesn't say anything and Katniss realizes it's because he's looking at her. She wants to do anything but talk to Haymitch, but she can hear her father's voice in her head. She pushes off the window and faces him.

"Right now," Haymitch says, kicking the chair beside Peeta towards her.


	5. Chapter 5

Katniss and Peeta spend the next hour being talked at by Haymitch. He covers the Hunger Games from top to bottom. These are the 74th Games and every year twenty-three kids die. The "career" tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4, win almost every year. They're trained killers, but it's more because they have the most sponsors because they're the most impressive and made to be the most beautiful. When they don't win, it's usually a fluke or someone's brains outdoing the brawn. This year, District 12 will do the latter.

"It doesn't have to be all brains, though," Peeta says when Haymitch pauses his speech to take a breath. "Katniss is an incredible shot. My father buys her squirrels. She hits them right in the eye every time - something that small, right in the eye."

"Is that true?" Haymitch asks her.

Katniss stares at Peeta. He has no reason to talk her up. The more he helps her, the more he is killing himself. He must be playing her, so she'll play back.

"Peeta's strong," she says, turning back to Haymitch. "He throws sacks of flour around like they're pillows. I've seen it. He can wrestle, too-came in second at school only to his older brother and everyone knows Peeta let him win."

Now Haymitch is staring. Katniss can feel Peeta's looking at her, too, but she is determined to watch the man in front of her. The cunning gleam in his eyes makes her think she might be able to fulfill her promise to her father after all.

"Are you two friends?"

"No," they both answer.

"Well, that's gonna change."

Katniss begins to protest, but Haymitch talks over her.

"Do not interrupt me, sweetheart. This is how we're going to approach the Games."

He said "we." Not "Katniss" or "Peeta " or even "the two of you"." "We."

"A united front," he explains, pointing at them. "I don't care what you do on your own, but when you're in public and those cameras are on you, you've known each other since you could wipe your own bottoms. We'll work on your lovely childhood stories later. These people will eat that shit up. For now, just get comfortable with each other."

The word feels like a brick as it works its way up to her mouth. "Okay."

"Yeah, okay," Peeta agrees.

"Good. Now go get cleaned up for dinner. Don't look at me like that. I'm only telling you because I don't want to hear Ms. Trinket bitch and moan about how dirty we are or whatever. It's already hard enough for me to keep my food down around her."

He pushes himself out of his chair and leaves the same way he came in. Two attendants show them to their rooms. They're next to each other. Katniss glances over at Peeta and finds his eyes on her. She doesn't know the name of the expression on his face. Suddenly uncomfortable, she steps inside and slams the door behind her.

The bed in the room is bigger than she has ever seen. It must have at least ten pillows of all shapes and sizes, including one as big as her. There's an ornate dresser against the wall and another door, which she assumes must be a bathroom. She opens the door to find she is correct, but it's not what she expects. She's not sure why she expects a wooden tub and john. This Capitol-furnished restroom shines, just like everything else on the train. All the surfaces are smooth and white with gold details. Fluffy towels hang on the walls. The tiles are arranged in pictures of fish and water plants. They almost looks like the lake at home.

She jumps when she sees herself in the mirror. The one they have at her house is dirty and scratched. Katniss hardly uses it, anyway, so when she sees her reflection, she is intrigued. The color of her dress makes her gray eyes look bluer, like her mother's. She hasn't realized how much she is starting to look like her. She always thought that she looked like her father, having his dark hair and skin and his eyes. The structure of her face, though, favors her mother. Then he's there again in the strength of her shoulders and the way she holds herself. She smiles into the mirror. That smile is definitely his, too. It's one of her, Prim's, and her mother's favorite things about him. It has warmth and comfort and a love so instinctual and unconditional that it's the only love that Katniss can't deny herself.

Maybe Peeta would like her smile.

She turns on the water and splashes her face with it. Just because they have to act like friends doesn't mean she needs to care about him. It's all the more reason not to care about him, or his father, or those damn cookies in her pocket. She grabs the bag and throws them onto the floor. The kindness makes her angry. Peeta could have just been being kind when he mentioned her skill with a bow. That makes her angrier because she doesn't need his help. She doesn't want it and he should just worry about helping himself because he should be trying to survive just as much as she is.

Katniss washes her face since it's already wet. Then she undoes her hair and brushes it before braiding it down her shoulder. She looks alright. She doesn't really want to hear Effie complain, either.

When she arrives in the dining car, Haymitch, Effie, and Peeta are already seated. She says nothing as she heads to the empty seat beside Haymitch. Peeta stands when she pulls the chair out and she looks at him in warily. He gives her a shy, embarrassed smile. Slowly, like she would around a wild animal, she slides into her seat. He sits back down when she is settled.

"So polite!" Effie screeches in delight. "Isn't it wonderful that we finally have a gentleman among us?"

Katniss doesn't know who is supposed to answer, but the question is obviously directed at Haymitch. He is slouching with his elbows on the table as wipes his nose on the back o f his hand. She covers her nose and mouth to hide a very unladylike snort.

"Katniss, are you alright, dear?" Effie asks.

The layers of paint on her face make her concern look like a grimace. Katniss nods and looks down to hide her face. Peeta catches her eye and she sees he is equally amused.

Dinner is served already dished onto plates, bowls, and saucers. Effie calls the many different plates "courses." It seems more like having a day's worth of meals all at once. There's a salad with goat cheese that makes her think of Prim. The creamy soup reminds her of the ones her mom gives them when they are sick. The main course is mashed potatoes and lamb chops. Her father says that it's a sin to kill a baby animal who has barely begun to live. She used to think it was just a nicer way of saying that game has a lot more meat and hide on it when it's older. Now she thinks that he might have meant it exactly as he said it. She doesn't touch the lamb.

Once their last plates are cleared, Effie ushers them into a room with a large screen and a large, semi-circular couch. She sits down and motions for Peeta and Katniss to sit beside her. As if he notices Katniss' hesitation, Peeta moves beside Effie, giving her the seat next to Haymitch. The screen lights up and the recap of the day's reapings begins.

All of the careers are volunteers. Katniss wishes they hadn't stepped up, because the kids they replace look much less intimidating than they do. The way the boy from District 2 is staring into the camera reminds her of a starving wolf she once encountered-except more vicious. Nothing spectacular happens as they show the rest of the districts. Though, there is a little girl from District 11 that makes Katniss' heart ache for Prim. She does not appear to have an older sibling because she walks into their Justice Building alongside the male tribute. Peeta shifts in his seat when the screen cuts to District 12.

Effie reads Prim's name and Katniss' stomach clenches in panic again. She hears her own voice yelling Prim's name. She watches herself run up to volunteer. Now Prim is screaming. Gale comes and carries her away.

Gale. Her cheeks feel hot and cold at the same time when she remembers his palms on them. She clenches her hands like she did on his wrists. He kissed her. Why would he do that? She pulls her lips into her mouth and bites down to try to get rid of the ghostly pressure of Gale. There was no reason for it. Even if he does have feelings for her, there is no point to letting her know because she is probably just going get killed. Even if she doesn't die, he knows she isn't going to marry. There is no point to wanting her.

"Haymitch, you really must present yourself better in public," Effie says as she stands up.

The show has ended.

"Yeah, yeah. They got a good laugh out of it. It's all a good show," he replies before taking a gulp of his drink.

"Well, we are probably the laughing stock of all of Panem. I don't care if they 'got a good laugh out of it.' In order to be taken seriously, we must mind our manners."

She sweeps out of the room as Haymitch gives a rude impression of her. He laughs at his own antics and throws back the rest of his drink.

"It's gonna be a hell of a long day tomorrow, so I suggest you two get some rest. There's nothing like that first day in the Crapitol."

He gives another loud guffaw and leaves. Neither Katniss, nor Peeta move. Things are starting to become much more real. They have been taken from their homes and have now seen the people who will try to kill them in a few days. It is already overwhelming. She can't imagine how arriving the Capitol will feel.

"So I, uh...I guess we never really got introduced."

In school, their teachers say that the Capitol is in a place with mountains several times as large as the ones in District 12. There are some so tall that they have snow on them the whole year.

"I'm Peeta."

It sounds like a cold, unwelcoming place if that is the case. Of course, everything she has ever heard about it makes it seem that way. The only good things she has heard have come from the Capitol itself.

Peeta clears his throat loudly, making Katniss jump. She glowers at him until she sees his hand. It's extended to her like it was on stage.

"Sorry. I'm...just trying to introduce myself," he says softly.

She feels a little guilty, so she takes his hand.

"I'm Peeta."

"Katniss."

She does not want to sit here and chat with her district partner, but for some reason, she can't make her muscles move. Even her forehead is getting sore from the scowl that has been on her face all evening. Peeta breathes in deeply and she looks over at him. It's the first good look at him that she's had. His blond hair is combed back again, after having been made a mess in the Justice Building. It looks too stiff. It does keep his bangs from falling in his eyes, though. She expects his eyes to be light blue like her mother's and Prim's or dark like Madge's. But his - they're just blue. They're very blue. Even the lake in the summer sunshine isn't as blue as his eyes.

"Effie's quite a character, huh?"

She makes herself turn away because the way his jaw line looks when he glances down at his hands is distracting.

"I guess."

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"I don't know you."

"Well, according to Haymitch, you've known me since you were potty trained."

"I haven't."

Peeta releases a long breath as he slumps against the couch. Haymitch didn't say they had to be friends in real life. She's not breaking her promise to her father, so she won't feel guilty. Maybe they could have been friends in another life, but in this one, there's no point.

"Want a cookie?"

Katniss is so taken aback that she looks over at him again. He is holding a cookie very much like the ones Mr. Mellark gave her. His expression is hopeful, like Prim's when she asks if they can go look at the pretty cakes at the bakery again. Peeta may well be the one who decorates them.

"My dad gave me some before...um...well he said that he didn't trust the Capitol food so he wanted to make sure I had some of the good stuff from home."

His smile almost makes her believe that they're just going on a trip and that his father just wanted to make sure he was well-fed until he got home.

"He gave me some, too," she says.

"He always does. Every year. He says, 'A little piece of home to carry with them, because the fastest way to a person's heart is through their stomach.'" Peeta looks off at nothing as he laughs. Then, his expression becomes lost. "He's a...he's a..."

"You look a lot like him. Like your father, I mean," Katniss says before she can stop herself.

He moves his gaze back to her. She thinks his eyes begin to tear, but the quick smile that makes them scrunch up covers it.

"You do, too."

She scowls. She looks like her dad? Well, she knows she does, but having someone else tell her like that makes it sound like she looks like a boy.

The grin that spreads across his face takes her by surprise. It's all teeth and dimples. It's the same smile that Gale and her father use when they tease her. She crosses her arms over her chest and sits back against the couch.

"I'm sorry," Peeta says, though he's not fighting his smile. "I was just making fun. Trying to break the ice, you know? Since we have to pretend to be best friends and all."

She continues scowling at the table in front of them.

"Okay," he whispers, drawing out the first syllable as he looks around for something to say. "That's a pretty pin."

"Thank you."

"Is it real gold? Where'd you get it?"

"I didn't steal it."

He puts his hands up defensively. "Whoa, no, that's not what I meant. I just thought maybe it was a special family heirloom or something because I don't think I've ever seen real gold in my life. I know you wouldn't steal. You and your dad always trade and you trade fairly. Everyone knows that."

She wasn't aware of her reputation. It must be more from her father than from her, because she doesn't like to interact with people.

"Madge gave it to me."

"Madge? Wow, that was really nice of her. You guys good friends?"

She shrugs.

"Well you must be, because that's a really cool present. Is it going to be your token?"

"Is yours going to be that cookie?"

He laughs and she has to consciously stop herself from smiling.

"No, I don't think they'd let me bring food in," he says as he turns the cookie over in his hands, "even if it really is the best representation of what home is for me. Or are you asking because you want to eat it and would feel bad if it was my token?"

Her smile wins out. It's not because she really wants the cookie, but because, despite their situation, he is exuding an incredibly contagious ease. She holds her hand out.

"A gift for you," he says as he drops half the cookie in her hand.

A gift. He really is just kind. They eat and he starts talking again. He doesn't talk about anything in particular, and he doesn't seem to expect her to say anything, which is nice. Again, he reminds her of Prim because she's the only person in the world who could talk forever and not be annoying. Soon, Katniss is watching his lips as they form words and the muscles in his forearms jumping back and forth as he moves his hands.

"Katniss?"

"What?"

"I asked if you've ever noticed that weird smell in the back corner of Mr. Thompson's classroom."

"Oh, sorry. No, I haven't."

Peeta smiles at her. "You look tired."

She nods, grateful for the excuse. When she meets his eyes, the look in them startles her. His pupils are wide, as if they are stretching to take as much of her in as possible. They are moving closer to her as well, and she realizes that he's leaning forwards. She's only had a boy do this to her one other time and at the moment, she can't seem to remember when that was.

"Are you two still up? You better-"

Haymitch trails off when he sees them on the couch. It is only then that Katniss notices the way she and Peeta are turned towards each other. His arm is along the back of the couch and his hand is right by her head. Both of them have a leg up on the cushions, and the foot she has on the floor is extended so it is beside his. She backs up hurriedly, but Haymitch is already laughing.

He turns to leave, but not before saying, "Oh, sweetheart, you are going to hate me in the morning."

Once he is gone, Peeta gets up.

"I'm gonna go to bed," he says hurriedly.

Katniss' face is still burning as she says, "Me, too."

They go around opposite sides of the couch, but end up getting to the door at the same time. Peeta laughs nervously before backing up and letting her go first. She takes his invitation readily and walks as quickly as she can into her room. She dives into her bed and covers her head with one of the pillows.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?"


	6. Chapter 6

Katniss wakes up early, as she always does. It takes her all of five seconds to remember why the pillows smell like roses, why there is no draft of morning mountain air, and why her sister is not curled up next to her. The last thought draws a tear from her eye. Her stomach clenches and she takes a deep breath to keep the sobs from rising to her chest. She has never taken Prim from granted. She has never taken anything for granted, really. She just never realized how much seeing her sister every morning meant to her. The emptiness in her feels like it is pulling her into oblivion.

"You have to come back to me. Promise me."

Katniss throws herself into a sitting position, whipping her head around. Of course Prim is not here. Katniss is glad she isn't here. She volunteered so she wouldn't be on this train. She buries her face in her hands. Making that promise to Prim was stupid. She should have just told her to start accepting the fact that she is going to be an only child. Maybe that would have softened the blow. Now, chances are, she's going to break her sister's heart, her hope, and her innocence.

"Promise me."

There was something in her voice that Katniss is having trouble identifying. Conviction? Foolhardiness? Maturity? She lifts her head. Prim knows very well that Katniss might not come back - she must. She wanted to make sure that Katniss would not just give in to her fate. So, she gave her something for which to fight. She made her promise because if there's one thing Katniss is more than she is stubborn, it's loyal, and Prim wanted her to at least go down fighting.

"You're such a little turd, Prim," Katniss laughs to herself.

She's going into the arena. She's going to be hunted for days. That doesn't mean she can't still make her sister happy one more time. She'll fight and maybe, just maybe, she'll win.

The air is chilly after the warm bed. Katniss cracks the blinds and sees that the sun is just rising. Her father will be leaving for work soon. Dread grips like cold fingers at the inside of her ribcage. He has to come home. He has to come home every day until she gets back. If she doesn't come back, he has to keep coming home every day for as long as he can, or at least until Prim can start working. She wishes that Prim will never need to work to survive. Katniss has one more reason to fight.

She leaves the blinds open as she rounds the bed to the bathroom. There are about a hundred dials and knobs and she is about to give up when she sees two of them are labeled "H" and "C." She immediately grabs the "H" knob and clear, steaming water immediately rushes from the tap. A hot shower with running water that will stay warm. What hardship.

When she is clean and dry, she stands in front of the dresser. She hesitates for a moment before grabbing the handle. The only impression of Capitol fashion she has is from Effie, so she's relieved when there's no explosion of perfume, powder, and rainbow sparkles when she opens the drawer. A corner of dark green fabric catches her eye and she pulls on it. The shirt is soft and light, but still warm against her fingers. She rifles through the other drawers until she finds a pair of black pants of the same material. Once she is dressed, she walks out of her room, braiding her hair.

She had not expected anyone else to be awake, so when she sees Peeta sitting in the lounge car, she stops in her tracks. He hasn't heard her so she could easily turn around and explore the other way, but she doesn't. His hair is wet from a shower, too, causing it to hang down around his ears and over his forehead. His bare feet are propped up on the windowsill. She can see the sun glinting off of the small lines of hair across the arches. He is taking a sip from a mug when she approaches him.

"Holy shit," he says into the rim of the mug as he jumps.

Some of the brown liquid spills down his chin and onto the front of his shirt. Katniss clears her throat to hide a laugh.

"Are you always so quiet?" he asks.

She shrugs.

"Well could you at least clear your throat before you creep up on me next time?"

"Bad habit."

"I'll say. You made me spill my hot chocolate."

"You're what?"

"Hot chocolate," he repeats as his eyes light up. "It's so good. I've had chocolate a couple times at the bakery before, but this stuff is incredible. Here, I'll get you a cup."

He doesn't even have time to stand up before an attendant appears with another mug.

"Uh..." Katniss starts, glancing between the cup and the attendant. Just a moment before the pause becomes awkward, she takes the mug. "Thank you."

The attendant leaves without a word. Peeta is looking at her with a boyish smile on his lips, waiting for her to try it. When she does, she knows exactly why his eyes lit up because she's sure hers do, too. In fact, she knows they do because he laughs. It's hard to believe that she's headed into the arena with this boy. Then she remembers that is exactly what she's doing and wipes all expression off of her face.

"It's good, isn't it?" he asks, still with that innocent grin.

She turns her shoulders towards the window. Unfortunately, the landscape gives her nothing interesting with which to occupy herself. Flat, flat, and yellow and green grasses.

"I think we might be in 10," Peeta tells her. "I saw some cows a little while ago."

She has no idea where District 10 is, but she figures they must be close to the Capitol. The thought makes her put her mug down. Just when she thinks Peeta has given up talking, he speaks up again.

"That's a nice color on you."

"What are you trying to do?"

His head jerks back in surprise. He opens his mouth twice before saying, "Just trying to be nice."

"Why?"

"Life's too short to be mean."

The sentence hangs in the air, waiting for one of them to tack something onto the end of it. They both know what the second half of the phrase is. There are only days left for one or both of them and they have to choose how they're going to spend them. Katniss has never been "nice," though. She doesn't think of herself as mean, either. She's practical. Life is too short and that means that there's no time to waste on pleasantries when there are mouths to feed. Apparently he never had to learn that. She crosses her arms over her chest and scowls.

"Sorry if I bothered you," Peeta grumbles as he gets up.

He doesn't take his hot chocolate with him as he leaves.

Offending other people has never really bothered her before. She doesn't feel the need to change to make people happy if they don't like her the way she is. Her father always did make her apologize when she rubbed someone's nerves a little too roughly. It's not the memory of her father that makes her pick up Peeta's mug and follow him, however. His tone caused a stirring in her stomach that is intensely uncomfortable. As much as she wants to hate him for making her feel guilty, she wants to make it up to him even more.

He is sitting at the dining car table with a plate of pancakes in front of him. She makes sure she makes noise as she walks over to him. She places the mug by his hand and he looks at it, and then up at her. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, playing with the end of her braid. Hopefully, her thin-lipped smile is enough to make him understand what she doesn't want to have to say. After another moment, he nods, appearing to accept her peace offering.

"Thanks," he says.

"You're welcome."

A plate of her own is sliding in front of her, but she is watching Peeta. He rolls up one of the pancakes and dips it into his mug. He holds it there for a second before biting into it. There's that boyish smile again.

"I think I can hear Effie groaning from here," Katniss says.

His grin grows and he gestures at her pancakes. "Try it. It's good."

She does and it is. This time, she lets herself show it. They pull the rest of the condiments and fixings to their end of the table and spend the rest of the meal dunking their pancakes in jellies, syrups, and, Katniss' favorite, brown sugar. By the time they're done, the sun is up and they can hear Effie's heels clacking towards them. Peeta clears his throat to get Katniss' attention and points to his own chin. She wipes away some jam, and then points to her upper lip. He flicks his tongue out and grabs the bit of sugar that was clinging there. She's staring at his mouth when the car door opens.

"Wonderful! You are up," Effie says cheerfully. "I was a tad bit worried when - what in, oh my...what is going on here?"

Katniss and Peeta look at each other and then down at the table. It's not that big of a mess. There are a couple raisins out of the bowl. A bit of powdered sugar is splattered towards Katniss where Peeta flicked it at her. She dropped a glob of the strawberry jam, but half of it did land on her plate.

"We're sorry, Effie," Peeta says with an incredibly charming smile. "It's just, we don't have all this stuff back in 12, so we got excited. It's all so good, we just got a little carried away. We'll clean it up, I promise."

"Oh, Peeta, darling, that's alright. That's not your job." She claps her hands and the attendants begin to wipe the table. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I know you wouldn't make such a muddle on purpose. The food you get is quite good, if I do say so myself."

"I'm sure we have you to thank for that."

It looks like Effie is blushing, but Katniss can't quite tell. She says something about going to get Haymitch and scurries away. When the door closes behind her, Katniss turns back to Peeta with an eyebrow raised.

"What?" he says, his grin becoming mischievous. "No harm in buttering her up a little. Maybe she can get us an endless supply of hot chocolate."

Her other eyebrow lifts, followed by the corners of her mouth as he drains his second mug. He groans and slides down in his seat.

"I'm gonna be so sick," he laughs.

"Dare you to throw up on Effie's shoes. Try to charm your way out of that one."

"You're on."

He gives her the look she doesn't know the name of again. It's kind of like intrigue, but there's another layer. Before she has a chance to think on it any more, Haymitch drags himself into the room.

"Effie tells me you're getting good and chummy already," he says through a groaning yawn. "That's good, because we're tweaking our plans a little bit. You two are going to be Panem's next favorite love story."

Haymitch nods in thanks when an attendant gives him his plate. He seems quite unaware of the blank stares he is receiving from his tributes. His knife scrapes against the plate and he shoves a forkful of pancakes in his mouth.

"Now-"

Katniss and Peeta start complaining. As Katniss is making her point about the Games being about killing other people, Peeta is going on about how they just met each other and are hardly even friends. Haymitch continues eating until they've worn themselves out.

"Now that you've got that out of your system," he starts again, "it's the same deal as before. You don't have to so much as look at each other in private, but you better play house for the cameras."

Katniss clutches her face in exasperation. Peeta is right in saying that they are hardly friends. She barely knows how to be friends at all, let alone a girlfriend. She's only been kissed once and she didn't even kiss back. How is she supposed to pretend to be in love with someone? She's sworn herself against it. Laughing and smiling with Peeta was just to get her mind off of things. It definitely wasn't because she wanted to do it.

"Why? What's wrong with the childhood friends thing?" Peeta asks.

"Nothing, but this is better," Haymitch says matter-of-factly. "I really didn't think it'd be asking too much seeing as you two were practically sucking face last night."

That statement pushes Katniss over the edge. She grabs her knife and stabs it into the table right where Haymitch's hand is headed. He looks surprised, but then he laughs.

"Seems she does know her way around a weapon or two," he says as he grabs the jam. "Can you do anything with that besides kill a table?"

"Give me a target," she snaps.

"Lady's face in the painting behind you. It's giving me the heebie-jeebies."

In one smooth motion, Katniss stands, grabs the handle, and spins, finding her target and throwing the knife. It sinks into the lady's forehead.

"Anything else?" she hisses.

"Yeah," Haymitch says loudly. "You promised you'd trust me no matter what. Now sit down."

In an instant, her ire is gone. Her mind travels to the previous day. "Trust Haymitch." "You know, I would drink too...there's more to him than you think." She sits down.

"Thank you. Now is there anything you'd like to show the class before we move one?"

Peeta shakes his head. He's sitting straight up and rigidly in his chair. Katniss is almost sorry for having apparently scared him, but then she remembers that Haymitch says she has to be in love with him. If she has to, she wishes he would at least grow a backbone.

"Okay then. We'll discuss this more later. We'll be coming up on the Capitol soon. This train ride in is your first real chance to start laying some groundwork for getting sponsors. A bunch of these fuckers are already lining the station waiting to see this year's crop. You smile and you wave. These aren't the big boys, yet, but every little bit counts. It's about getting as many people to like you as you can, which shouldn't be a problem for at least one of you."

Katniss blows a stray hair from her face.

"After that," Haymitch continues, "you'll be sent to your prep teams and stylists to pretty you up before the opening ceremony tonight. I'm not going to lie to you; you're not going to enjoy what you're prep team does, but you'll like your stylists. Trust them and do whatever they say. They know what they're doing."

The car is suddenly dark and Katniss jumps to her feet. Haymitch goes on eating, which causes her to ease a bit. They must just be in a tunnel, which means that the Capitol is likely on the other end. Sweat forms in her palms and a tremor shakes her shoulders. As rapidly as they were thrown into darkness, light appears back in the windows. It's joined by noises of people clapping and cheering. It must be her imagination, but she swears she can hear people yelling her name.

"Well, maybe getting sponsors won't be a problem for you after all, sweetheart," Haymitch says. "Sounds like you've got a fan club already."

She looks back at him in confusion, and then at Peeta. He looks as overwhelmed as she is, but he quickly puts on a pleasant face. He rounds the table and grabs her hand on the way to the windows. She's about to ask him what the hell he's doing, but then he starts smiling and waving, just like Haymitch told them to do. The deep breath she fills her lungs with helps her relax. She lifts her arm to wave at the painted faces and flashy wigs. It is not until she becomes fully aware of the pressure of Peeta's hand that she smiles.


	7. Chapter 7

There is no longer a single hair on her body below her shoulders. Every bit of her skin tingles painfully under her robe and feels like it's going to rip whenever she moves. She knows for a fact that she was not even this clean when she was born. Haymitch was right about what her prep team did. She was expecting a haircut and a washing, but they covered her in creams and took strange metal instruments to all parts of her body. All parts of her body.

When her prep team finally leaves, Katniss breathes a long sigh of relief. Gone are their probing fingers and mouths that never seem to stop moving. She has learned more about a man named Caligula and his three sisters in the past few hours than she ever wants to know about anyone. If her stylist so much as utters a single piece of gossip, she'll punch him in the throat. Haymitch said the stylists know what they're doing, though. His word says a great deal more in this situation than normally. If he can actually speak well of someone from the Capitol, they must not be that awful.

The door opens. Katniss has to suppress a gasp. The man that walks in is the most un-Effie-looking person she has seen since her arrival. His short, brown hair looks real. The simple shirt and pants he is wearing are just black. His face is a normal color. The only trace of makeup he has on is gold eyeliner, which is more than enough to make him look regal.

"Katniss, my name is Cinna. I'm your stylist," the man greets her in a deep, even voice. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Hi."

The way he smiles makes her assume Haymitch has warned him about her way with words.

"I want you to know how much I admire you for what you did for your sister," he says. "And because of that, Portia, my partner and Peeta's stylist, she and I have decided to do something a little different for your outfits for the opening ceremony."

"Not coal miners?"

A sly smile lifts half of his mouth as he shakes his head. His expression makes her uncomfortable. Tributes have been practically naked before. They have also worn clothes so skintight and sheer that they might as well have been naked. Another year, the tributes from 10 were put on fake horses mounted inside their chariot. The horses pulling District's 11 chariot thought they were real and tried to mate with them. The Capitol loved that particular ceremony.

Cinna said "different," though. They're planning something no one has ever done before. That realization does little to put Katniss at ease.

"Headlamps and fake pickaxes don't exactly exude the bravery that has come from your district, in my opinion," Cinna explains, "especially from you. People need to notice that. They need to notice courage like yours. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that they remember you."

She considers him. No one ever talks about District 12 like that, if at all. Not even people from 12 talk about 12. They put their heads down and work and they survive. That's what life is there: survival. It's endurance against any and all odds. It's finding a way to make it when no one wants to help you. It's where mockingjays are born.

"Why are you doing this?" she asks.

He gives her a soft smile and replies, "Let's just say a little bird convinced me it would be a good idea."

A few hours later, Katniss is staring into a mirror. She is covered from neck to foot (which she appreciates) in a black unitard. The black knee-high boots are similar to her hunting boots, but significantly less comfortable. There are fixtures like armor on the shoulders and forearms and a small cape on her back, making her look much more like a warrior than she feels. She does have to admit that she looks impressive.

Cinna braids her hair back, but it's not in her usual style. Instead of hanging low to just be out of her way, he starts the braid high on the back of her head. He pulls her hair up and away from her face, making it look much more elegant. Then, he makes her turn so he can do her makeup. This part is what she has been dreading, but she is starting to trust Cinna. She is surprised when he is done in a matter of minutes. When she sees her reflection again, she is taken aback. She looks remarkably like herself, only slightly older and much more beautiful.

"I want people to be able to recognize you," Cinna tells her. "People are going to remember your face - the face of the girl on fire."

"The girl on what?" she repeats, spinning on her heel to face him.

"Fire."

* * *

Katniss and Cinna meet Peeta and Portia in the large stable in the basement of the building. Most of the other tributes and their stylists are already there doing final preparations. Cinna and Portia put their heads together and begin talking in low voices. The way they are looking at the small metal torch in Cinna's hand makes Katniss nervous.

"I'm assuming Cinna told you what they're planning to do," Peeta whispers.

Katniss nods, still watching the torch.

"I'll pull your cape off if you get mine."

She smiles up at him as their stylists turn towards them.

"Now, like we said, it's not real fire," Cinna says as he turns the small torch on.

A small blue tongue of fire spouts from the end. He puts his hand right in it. Nothing happens. Katniss reaches her hand out and Cinna offers the flame to her fingertips. It feels just like air. She looks back at Peeta and nods her head, telling him to try it. The light from the fire reflects off of a scar on the base of his thumb as he hesitates. She puts her hand on his hip and he allows Cinna to bring the flame to his hand.

"See?" Portia says. "Nothing to worry about."

"Right," Cinna says. "Now, we'll get you situated on the chariot and light you up right before the parade starts. You guys are going to look phenomenal."

Their stylists guide them up onto the chariot. After a couple minutes of adjusting their body positions and reminding them to smile and wave and look proud, they leave them alone.

Peeta leans over and says, "So, I have a confession. I feel like an idiot."

Katniss can't help the burst of laughter that breaks her lips. "We have something in common."

He regards her for a moment before replying, "I'm glad."

The whole wall in front of them splits down the middle and begins to open. She thought the train station was loud, but the noise that greets them is far louder than anything she has ever heard before. Cinna taps them and holds up the torch to tell them he's going to light them. Even though she knows the fire is not harmful, she still feels a stab of panic. Cinna must see it, because he gives her a steady, reassuring nod.

When he touches the torch to their capes, the fabric flies up and bursts into flame. White, yellow, orange, and red flow from their shoulders in an impressive display. Peeta's eyes are as wide as hers at the sight. The chariots start to file out. District 1 goes first, followed by District 2. Cinna waves his arms to get their attention again. He tries to yell something, but all they can hear is the crowd. He grabs Portia's hand with his own and points down at them. Katniss' face flushes.

Their chariot begins to move and she grabs the edge to keep her balance. Peeta gently pries one of her hands away from the frame. He slides his fingers in between hers and smiles at her. It's gentle and kind and she can't take her eyes off of him, even as he leans in towards her ear.

"You're very pretty."

Her face is now burning and she wishes that the fire was actually hot to give her an excuse. She has an excuse to turn away, though, as they exit the building and enter the stadium. The noise somehow becomes louder when they come into view. There are thousands of eyes on them with fingers pointing and mouths open in shock. It makes her want to curl up and hide.

"Katniss, hey," Peeta says, shaking the hand he's holding, "you okay?"

His voice makes her realize the death grip she has both on the chariot and on his hand. She loosens her hold on both.

"No," he says, "don't let go. Wave and smile, right?"

She nods and lifts her free hand. The cheers get even louder, and she forces a smile onto her face. She hears her name and Peeta's, and also chants of "District 12." She remembers Cinna's words about people noticing the courage of her district. Her chest swells with pride and her smile becomes genuine.

Roses are being thrown from every direction and Katniss manages to catch one. She blows a kiss in the direction it came from and hundreds of hands reach out to catch it. She gives them a fluttery wave and another kiss.

"Hey, you're supposed to be in love with me," Peeta says. "It's not fair for you to be blowing kisses at other guys."

She stiffens. Their plan hadn't even crossed her mind. She is really going to need to work on the whole girlfriend thing. Peeta laughs at her reaction.

"It's fine," he tells her. "I'm going to kiss your cheek now. Is that okay?"

They are almost at the semicircle the rest of the chariots have formed around the great podium at the end of the stadium. All eyes, if they weren't on them before, are on them now. She nods.

He gives her hand a slight pull, causing her lean towards him. She feels his breath before his lips. A shock runs down her arms and back when he makes contact. The kiss is short, but still impossibly warm and soft. She clutches his hand and turns to look at him as he pulls away. She doesn't even have to try to return his smile.

President Snow's voice thunders over the crowd, calling their attention away from each other. Katniss doesn't listen, though. She never realized a touch could have that sort of effect. Gale's lips had felt nothing like Peeta's. Of course, he had surprised her whereas Peeta asked for her permission. She very much appreciates the gesture. Maybe Gale's kiss could have been more pleasant if he had warned her. Would she have let him go through with it, though? Probably not. She doesn't want Gale to kiss her, just like she doesn't want anyone to kiss her. She doesn't think she wants anyone to kiss her.

The horses begin to walk again. Soon, they are back inside and the fire goes out. Peeta steps down and she lets him help her down from the chariot.

"That was amazing," Cinna commends them as he approaches.

"Perfect," Portia agrees.

"We are all anybody who's anybody is going to be talking about!" Effie gushes, nearly dancing her way towards them.

"Nice job," Haymitch says. "I'm guessing that little peck was the boy's idea."

"Katniss gave me the idea," Peeta replies. "I just said it."

Her eyebrows draw together and he just smiles.

"Well, whatever it was, it was excellent. People are already speculating about your relationship. If you keep it up, you-"

Haymitch halts when something over Katniss' shoulder catches his eye. The male tribute from 2, the one who reminded her of a ravenous wolf, is glaring at them.

"Why don't we go upstairs?" Haymitch suggests carefully.

As they all move to follow him, Peeta pushes Katniss slightly in front of him and keeps a hand on the small of her back. She almost swats it away, but she remembers that they're still in public. Instead, she moves into him until she can feel his shoulder brush against hers. When they make it into the elevator, she slumps back against the wall.

"Is being nice really that hard for you, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks.

"Only as hard as it is for you to be sober right now," she bites back.

"It's like a switch with you. I'm almost impressed. Ten minutes ago, you were the sweetest little thing hanging onto his arm."

"Don't get used to it."

"I didn't realize I was that repulsive," Peeta quips before Haymitch can reply. "Don't worry, I won't take it personally."

That is not what she meant. She's afraid he doesn't know that, but then she sees that dimply, toothy, I'm-pulling-your-leg grin. She examines the laces on her boots for the rest of the ride.


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as they get up to their apartment, Haymitch says he doesn't want to see their faces anymore and retreats to his room. Effie, though obviously annoyed, takes it upon herself to give Katniss and Peeta the tour. She emphasizes the word "penthouse" as she describes their accommodations. It is essentially the same as the train, just bigger. Attendants, which Effie calls "Avoxes," stand at attention and do not so much as make eye contact with any of them. In fact, they stand so still that if they were painted gray, Katniss would have assumed they were statues.

Peeta's room is beside hers again. She doesn't look at him before she goes into her room this time. She's confused by him and doesn't want to see him looking at her. It's also partially because she is eager to get out of her parade costume. She strips and leaves the clothes in a pile on the floor. When she gets to the bathroom, she finds that there are even more knobs and buttons in this tub than in the one on the train. Impatient, she starts pushing and turning them at random. She immediately regrets her decision. The temperature of the water jumps up and down and colorful, heinously scented soaps bubble in it. It takes her several minutes to find a setting that is tolerable and doesn't make her smell like she is washing with seven different perfumes.

As the hot water runs over her, Katniss' mind wanders. Her day has been so overwhelming and busy that she hasn't had a chance to let everything sink in. She is in the Capitol - the lap of luxury. It's supposed to be the city on a hill, made of alabaster and gold. Luxury seems more like excess—too much food and absurd amounts of clothing. Alabaster doesn't survive outside for very long and gold is too soft to be made into anything useful. Perhaps she would be able to appreciate the finer things if she didn't feel like everything and everyone was all planning on killing her in the next two weeks.

Maybe not everyone. Effie's priorities are a little mixed up, but she doesn't seem to be ill-willed. Haymitch, as much as she dislikes him, is easy because her dad trusts him. He said to trust Cinna and Portia, who on their own have made it clear that they are trying to help. Then, there's Peeta. Haymitch essentially told her to trust him, too, by telling her to act in love with him. In fact, Haymitch has told her to trust all the people closest to her here. Or is it that he's only letting people he trusts near her? That's what her dad would do; that's what he's done all her life.

"How the hell do you know him?" Katniss groans as she slams her fist into the wall.

There are things she's not being told. She didn't expect to be told everything, but Haymitch's relationship to her father is a big deal. Haymitch is the richest man in the district. Her father is a coal miner. Haymitch is a drunk and hates everybody. Her father is kind and gentle and goes out of his way to help as many people as he can. They are both from the Seam. That's about it.

There's a loud pounding on her bedroom door and she can faintly hear Effie's voice. It must be time for dinner. Katniss allows herself to brood for another second before getting out of the shower. She'll make Haymitch tell her why he knows her father.

"Nice of you to join us, Katniss," Effie says.

"You're welcome," Katniss replies as she drops into her chair.

Peeta clears his throat and covers his face. The corner of his mouth that she can see is struggling not to smile. No one outside of her immediate circle ever finds her sharp tongue entertaining. Effie is certainly less than amused.

"I was just in the middle of telling everyone that there is a recap of the parade on after dinner, if anyone would care to watch."

"This one doesn't matter as much as the reapings," Haymitch adds, "but it's another chance to look at your competition. It's a better measure of their confidence level. For example, that boy from 2 still looks like he was born to be a tribute and can't wait to get into the arena. The girl from 7, on the other hand, looked like she was going to puke the whole time. I bet Joanna is ecstatic about that one."

Cinna and Portia both give wry smiles.

"Joanna is a mentor for 7. She's a…well," Haymitch laughs as he trails off. "She's a handful. She actually reminds me a lot of you, sweetheart."

Katniss is about to snap back when Peeta says, "Joanna Mason? She was the one a couple years ago who pretended she wasn't a contender, and then turned out to be crazy deadly with an ax, right?"

Haymitch makes a sound of affirmation as he digs into his food. Perhaps Haymitch was not trying to insult her. Peeta glances at her out of the corner of his eye as he starts to eat, as well.

Dinner continues with small talk. Katniss chooses not to participate and busies herself with picking at her food. She doesn't particularly want to watch the recap, but Haymitch makes a good point. A hunter understands the value of knowing her prey. Reapings are like the animal's initial reaction when they sense danger: fight or flight, predator or prey. Do they stand tall or cower when their name is called? The parade is the behavior after the shock settles. The animal decides how it's going to go about fighting or what it's going to do now that it has flown. She imagines the chain of events will be similar in the arena.

"You should eat, Katniss."

She jumps and looks up at Cinna. He is looking at her with concern.

"He's right," Haymitch says. "You're gonna need your strength for training tomorrow."

She did not realize how lost she was in thought. Everyone else's plates are being cleared. She has only poked a few vegetables while contemplating the hunting of human beings.

"I'm not very hungry," she says.

"She can get something later if she wants, can't she?" Peeta asks.

"Yes, of course," Effie pipes up. "There's a room service menu on your bedside table."

Katniss nods and pushes her plate away.

"You have to at least try to dessert. Cinna ordered it special," Effie tells her.

She doesn't want to, but she feels bad, so she nods. An Avox brings out a cake. It's on fire.

"Whoa! That's incredible," Peeta says as it is set down in the middle of the table. "How does that work? Is it the same fire that we wore?"

Cinna smiles and says, "No, this is real. It's in honor of you two. The fire is from alcohol – but don't worry, it's all being burned off. Sorry, Haymitch."

Haymitch gives a dismissing wave as he takes a long drink from his glass. Katniss makes and honest effort on her piece of cake, but all the sugar and butter is not sitting well in her mostly empty stomach. She makes sure to compliment Cinna on it, though. When Effie announces that it is time for the recap, Katniss doesn't hesitate to leave the food.

The couch is semicircular again, preventing her from finding a place away from prying eyes. She opts for comfort and slumps right onto the middle of the couch. Peeta sits next to her. She draws her knees into her chest.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Fine."

She expects him to press the subject, but he doesn't. He just stares at her. The longer she ignores it, the more uncomfortable it makes her. She meets his eyes and where she expects to see concern, she sees annoyance.

"What?"

"Look, I get it – I do," he hisses under his breath, "I don't like being told how to act and feel, either, but you don't have to make the whole thing unpleasant. I'm just trying to make this as easy as I can because the better we are at this love thing, the better our chances are of getting sponsors, and the better the chance that one of us goes home. Our families and 12 deserve it. I want one of us to go home."

The earnestness of his last sentence strikes Katniss right in the heart. He would be just as happy if she won as if he did. Either way it would mean that one of their families could keep their child. It would mean that their district would be a little better off in the coming year. There is a generosity and a goodness in him that rivals that of her father. She doesn't know if she will ever understand it.

She swallows thickly and says, "Okay."

He looks awkward for a second, as if embarrassed by his small outburst, and then nods. "Okay."

When Peeta sits back, Haymitch turns on the television. The announcers are already talking about the parade. They are assessing each district's costumes as they come out. Every so often, they hint at their excitement about her and Peeta arriving. When District 11 emerges, they spend all of ten seconds on their glorified farmer outfits before one of them practically screams in delight.

"Wow," Peeta says, leaning forward.

Katniss unwraps herself from her ball and leans forward, too. They look, in a word, incredible. The fire is flying behind them, billowing like flags for District 12. The light creates shadows on their faces that make them look dark and powerful, but beautiful all the same. She watches herself blow kisses into the crowd and be whispered to by Peeta. The stunned look on her face makes her understand why he laughed. Then he whispers to her again and she nods.

She can feel his lips again when she watches him give her a sweet peck. She realizes she's touching her cheek when she sees Haymitch watching her out of the corner of her eye. She tries to hide the gesture in a scratch and wills herself not to blush. The camera zooms further in so their faces fill the screen. They certainly look like they are in love - well, in something anyway. It's not quite the way her parents look when they look at each other. She and Peeta appear a little more surprised.

"Oh, you two look wonderful!" Effie squeals. "Little lovebirds like I've never seen."

Mockingjay. Lovebird. Her father called her a hawk once after she spotted a deer through the trees 150 yards away. She's not sure what it all means. All she knows is she wishes she was a bird so she could fly far away and never look back.

"Well, as much fun as it was to watch that again," Haymitch grunts as he pushes himself to his feet, "I'm going to bed. You two – breakfast at eight sharp. We have to talk about how we're going to do training before you go down at nine."

He is almost out the door when Katniss shoots up off the couch. She catches up to him in the hallway.

"Haymitch."

"What do you want, sweetheart? I'm tired."

"How do you know my father?"

"Your old man? We grew up together. Same class when we were kids."

"Don't bullshit me. He's never said a word about you before and then after the reaping—"

A dangerous look flashes in his eyes and it makes the rest of her words clog up in her throat. He grabs her arm and drags her down the rest of the hallway. He shoves his shoulder into a door marked "Capitol Personnel Only" and whisks her up a staircase. The door at the top opens onto the roof. The wind whipping around them makes it difficult to hear anything. When they are by the railing at the edge, he spins her to face him.

"Do not say another word about your father as long as you are here. Do you understand me?" he demands.

She nods, wide-eyed.

"Yes, I know your father and yes, we did grow up together. Now, your father doesn't talk about me for the same reason I never talk about him. One day, probably soon, you'll find out why but for right now, you do what he tells you and that means you trust me."

She nods again.

"Okay," he breathes, straightening up again and letting go of her shoulders. "I'll see you in the morning. Make sure you eat and sleep. I know it's all overwhelming, but you have to keep up your strength."

Katniss doesn't move until she hears the door close behind him. As much as she wants to be pleased that she was right about her father and Haymitch, she's afraid. For one, if it got Haymitch that upset, his relationship with her father must be highly serious which means it's also probably highly dangerous. Second, if he dragged her up to the roof, there must be someone in their apartment that he does not want to overhear a conversation such as theirs. She already worked out the trustworthiness of everyone there, though. She thinks back and remembers the recap. There were cameras shooting them from every which way, including seemingly impossible angles. There were cameras everywhere. Their every move is being watched.

The door opens again and she spins around to see Peeta poking his head out.

"Oh, hey," he says, as if he wasn't expecting to see her. "I was wondering where you guys went."

"Just…just up here."

"This is cool," he remarks, looking around as he makes his way over to her. "I bet you can see everything in the daytime."

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

She gives a small snort of laughter.

"Okay, well who could possibly be okay right now? But you know what I mean. You didn't eat and then Haymitch dragged you up here."

"I'm just a little overwhelmed."

He laughs as he picks at a spot on the railing. "Tell me about it."

"It almost doesn't feel real. I mean, it does, but I don't know if it's really all going to hit me until we get to the…uh, you know."

"Yeah. I know."

They stand in silence for a moment. Katniss reaches for the concrete ledge beyond the railing and flicks a lose piece off of it. It doesn't get six inches before there's a zapping noise and it flies back into her hand. She gives a start and jumps back.

"What? What's wrong?" Peeta asks.

"There's some sort of – I don't know, like a force field or something that just shot that pebble back at me."

"Really? Well, I guess that makes sense. If it's so easy to get up here, they couldn't make it easy for tributes to just, you know, jump."

So even if she was a bird, she's already caged. Hopelessness settles on her shoulders.

"Hey," he says, grabbing her attention back, "look. There's a garden over there."

He takes her hand before she has time to respond and pulls her along after him. They can't see the garden that well, as it's not lighted, but it smells nice.

"Why is this even up here?" Katniss asks.

Peeta shrugs. "Maybe now and again they actually want some real flowers instead of ones that are all genetically mutated and terrifying."

"But then you wouldn't be able to smell them from a mile away."

"And what a pity that would be."

"It's a wonder people here can smell anything at all."

"Well, see that's why they have to enhance everything. That's the only way they can smell it."

She laughs and he looks over at her. He's still holding onto her hand and she hasn't pulled it away.

"I think this is the first actual conversation we've ever had," Peeta observes. "You might have said more to me in these past few minutes than you have in the past couple days combined."

"I don't really talk a lot." He nods with a smile, and then she adds, "So don't feel special."

"Oh, well now you've gone and crushed my hope that I was actually getting you to like me."

"Nope."

She pulls her hand away and takes a few steps back from him. He reaches out for her, but she swats his hand away and takes off. His feet are heavy on the concrete roof as he chases after her. He's faster than she is, which is saying something, but when she spots a row of trees, she knows he won't catch her. She jumps a bed of flowers and then scrambles up into the branches of a pear tree.

"Whoa!" he says, peering up at her. "That was so fast."

"Impressed?"

"Very. Could you teach me how to do that?"

He looks so hopeful, grinning at her from the ground. She can't say no.

"Well, I've had years of practice, but I can give you a few tips."

They spend the next half hour going over tree climbing techniques. Peeta is clumsy at first, but he starts to move more easily as he gets a feel for it.

"Bigger trees are different, especially since the branches aren't as low, but it's the same idea. You just have to look for goods knots and things to hold onto."

He drops down next to her and holds out a pear. "You've got to be hungry by now."

Her stomach rumbles in answer to his question. She grabs the pear and takes a bite.

"Is it real?" he asks.

She shakes her head as she swallows the overly sweet flesh. "Mutation."

"Well maybe we can get you some real food inside."

He throws his arm over her shoulders and they walk back into the apartment. Maybe Peeta Mellark can be her friend in this life after all.


	9. Chapter 9

Breakfast the next morning is hearty. The plates are full of eggs, sausage, and potatoes, and there is a bowl of fruit in the middle of the table. Katniss and Peeta both arrive before Haymitch, but neither starts eating. Despite her hunger, Katniss' stomach won't settle.

"Nervous?" Peeta asks.

She answers with a weak smile.

"Me, too."

"They hate us. The other tributes, I mean."

"How do you figure?"

"The parade. Remember how the boy from 2 was glaring at us? Others were, too."

"We did kind of steal the show," Peeta says with a grin. "But, hey, don't worry about them. They're just jealous because they won't be getting the kind of sponsors that we will. They can hate us all they want, but that's not going to help them. We're going to be fine. I promise."

For some reason she can't explain, she doesn't hesitate to believe him. Haymitch comes in a moment later, looking quite alert considering the early hour.

"Alright," he says, "down to business. We've already gone over your major strengths—you with your weapons and you with your strength—but is there anything you haven't mentioned that you can use?"

"Katniss is amazing at climbing trees," Peeta replies immediately. "Like, scary good."

"Peeta's fast," Katniss says, "and he's a quick learner."

They share a quick smile and Haymitch laughs loudly.

"Aren't you two just precious? That's good, though. All of that. Whatever you're good at, don't show it in training. You don't want to showcase your skills to the other tributes—they don't need to know. Try something new to expand your repertoire. They're going to tell you not to ignore survival skills and I agree. You're probably good at some of that stuff, sweetheart, so help him out. You understand?"

They both nod and Peeta repeats, "Don't show our strengths; learn new things."

"Good. Now, we're still going with this love story, so you guys are going to stick by each other as much as possible. Obviously, this is training, so you don't need to get all mushy or anything, but you're a team. There will be a few required things that they'll put you through – combat and obstacle course stuff so tributes can put on a better show and all. Try to pick up as much as you can without standing out. Besides that, there are a bunch of different stations that you can work at. That's where you'll be attached at the hip. If you can, see if you can pick up some more information on other tributes—skills, personality, even likes and dislikes. The more you know, the better off you are.

"You'll train for three days. On the fourth, you'll have private sessions with the Game Makers. This is where you pull out all the stops. Katniss, you light it up with that bow and arrow. Peeta, you throw around the heaviest thing you can find. They'll give you a score on a scale from one to twelve. Higher scores mean more sponsors, so don't hold back. Focus on training right now, though. That's your most pressing concern. Everything else can wait."

Now that she knows more about what they are going to do and what training will be like, Katniss is more at ease. She cleans her plate and drains her glass of orange juice. At ten to nine, Effie comes by to take them to the training center. They ride the elevator down and she delivers them with a surprisingly sincere "good luck."

The training center is a huge, open room filled with racks of weapons, obstacle courses, and areas set up for the different stations that Haymitch mentioned. There are a few tributes already there, standing around and looking as uncomfortable as Katniss is feeling. Her face must show it, too, because Peeta gives her hand a squeeze. He's smiling at her and she returns it before setting her shoulders and steeling her face. She will not be scared.

At nine o'clock sharp, a woman begins to talk. She goes over rules—no fighting with other tributes—and expectations—eager participation in compulsory exercises and various stations. Her speech mostly repeats Haymitch's, only using Capitol jargon and lacking in the bitter tone of when he said "so tributes put on a better show." When she is finished, she has them move to warm up. Katniss can't imagine that the Game Makers really care that much about them, but seeing as they have only a week before the games start, dealing with strained muscles and other injuries would probably be such a bother for them.

They go through the required exercises: hand-to-hand combat, strengthening exercises, demonstrations and practice with common close range weapons, and an obstacle course. Katniss watches Peeta as he clears the course. He's holding back, she knows, to not give away his speed, but his moves still seem a little clumsy. She takes him aside when he's done.

"What's up?" he asks, still slightly out of breath.

"You're too heavy on your feet."

"What?"

"You make way too much noise when you walk, let alone when you run. You slam your feet down. Try to be lighter. Land on your toes instead of your heel. It cushions the impact and helps you move more quietly."

"Okay, I'll try it. Thanks," he says, smiling as he gives her shoulders a quick squeeze.

"Holy shit, are you guys really still doing that?"

Katniss and Peeta turn to see one of the other tributes staring at them. She has a number 2 on her arm.

"Dude, if I were a Game Maker I would rig it so they'd have to kill each other," says a boy with a 1 on his sleeve.

"No way, man," the boy from 2 says. "After that shit they pulled at the opening ceremony, I'm gonna kill them myself."

"But, Cato," whines the girl from 1, "what would people do without their little darlings from 12? It's so cute when tributes other districts think they have a chance."

Katniss is fuming, barely recalling the rule about not fighting as she eyes a table of throwing knives just out of her arm's reach. Then, she feels Peeta's strong grip on her elbow and is startled when she hears the words that fly from his mouth.

"Go fuck yourselves and quit wasting our time."

Before she can add anything, he pulls her away and towards the knot tying station.

"I can stand up for myself, thanks," she snaps, yanking her arm away.

"I know you can," he replies calmly. "That's why I did it."

"That's—what?"

"That's why I didn't let you stand up for yourself. It's like Haymitch said: hiding our strengths. They'll think I'm the fighter and you're not, so they'll focus more attention on me. If it comes down to it, I've got a better chance hand-to-hand, anyway. You're a hunter. You're more dangerous with a little distance and surprise on your side."

She looks down at her feet. She, her father, and Gale occasionally use a technique that capitalizes on that fact. If they were having trouble stalking animals, she would climb a tree and they would herd game towards her. She can take anything down if it doesn't know she's there.

"I didn't meant to step on your toes," Peeta says to her silence. "Just trying to go along with the plan."

"No, it was smart. It's a good thing you're a thinker, because I was about to send a few knives their way. Of course, they're all fake so I probably would have just looked like an idiot."

"And that, sweetheart, is why the boy is in charge of getting sponsors," he says in his best impression of Haymitch.

She laughs and picks up a length of rope. She's already pretty good with knots, having learned while hunting. There are a few knots that she picks up from the instructor, such as one that is strong enough to suspend a person from a sturdy rope. She finds herself watching Peeta more than practicing, though. His fingers are surprisingly nimble as he manipulates the rope. He scowls a little bit when he concentrates. It makes each smile he cracks when he masters a knot that much brighter.

The day flies by and Katniss' stomach is rumbling when they leave in the evening. The two of them hit almost every survival station available. It turns out that Peeta does decorate the cakes at the bakery and he's just as talented with camouflage. He teaches her clever ways to use colors and shading. Learning from him and teaching in return takes more out of her than she would have figured. Food is all she can think about during her shower and sleep is all she can think about when she's done eating. She's out as soon as her head hits the pillow.

The next day is similar to the first. After the compulsory exercises, she and Peeta look around to try to pick a station. Most of the ones they haven't been to involve weapons. The careers have effectively monopolized those areas. She is not excited about being near them again.

"Don't worry," Peeta whispers, "I'll protect you, remember?"

She grins and elbows him in the ribs. His words do put her at ease, though. While she doesn't need his physical defense, he is a good buffer between her and interaction with other people. They find a station on knife fighting that no one is using. It's probably not glamorous enough for the careers when there are swords and maces to be used.

The instructor smiles politely at them and begins the training. He hands a knife to Peeta and brings him to a set of floor mats used for practice. They go through steps to teach different strikes. Some of them are useful, but others remind Katniss that it's all for show. Once the instructor moves on to help another person who has come to the station, she approaches Peeta.

"Forget most of what they guy just said," she tells him. "That one where you stab downwards from over your head is the most useless thing I've ever seen. You get a lot of power, but other than that, it's dumb."

"Wow," Peeta laughs. "Tell me how you really feel."

She kicks him lightly in the ankle and says, "I'm serious. Stand up like that again. You want to know how many ways I could kill you right now?"

"Not really. I'm just going to assume a lot."

"You're leaving every single one of your vital organs open. I wouldn't even need a weapon to take you out. Not to mention that the chances of you getting a fatal hit on a standing, conscious person from that angle are slim to none."

"Well, then what should I do?"

"You're best bet is striking upwards. It's much shorter and quicker and gives you easier access to their vitals. So, here, start down here." She puts her hand over his and lowers it. "When you stab, use your whole body if you can, because that'll give you more power than just your arm."

The heat from his breath breaks on her temple. She looks up at him and finds his eyes on her. Her other hand has found its way onto his lower back and her fingers are still curled around his. She steps back in surprise.

"I, uh…" he starts before his eyes flit over her shoulder. "I think you have a shadow."

Katniss turns to see the little girl from District 11 duck out of sight. She feels a sudden pang in her gut that makes her forget about her proximity to Peeta. The girl has big, wide eyes and their contrast with her dark skin gives her the face of an angel. She's so innocent. She's too young. Someone should have volunteered for her.

"Hey, let's go learn something else," he says, gently coaxing her out of her reverie. "Something neither of us know."

He does his best to keep her in the present for the rest of the day and the next, and she appreciates his effort. She does need to focus. It is, after all, a life or death situation. She needs to be on top of her game for her private session.

* * *

_ Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit._

Her arm hurts from where she whipped it with the bowstring. _Idiot._ The elevator doors take forever to close and she makes the mistake of looking up at the Game Makers to see they are still watching her in stunned silence. _I'm dead._

"Sure, Everdeen," Katniss says snidely to herself, "make sure they remember you. Make sure they fucking remember you. _So stupid_!"

She slams her fists into the wall before sinking to her knees. The sick feeling swirling in her stomach is the same one that took hold of her at the Reaping. Her insides feel like they're melting and her whole body is shaking. She knows she has a temper, but it has never gotten out of hand like this before. Her father has always been there to quell her anger. He's not here, though. His hand won't appear on her shoulder to reign her back into decent manners. No one else does that. Gale's hand would fan the fire to match his own rage. Her mother and Prim would let her be snappy and irate, hiding their smirks, until she was too tired to be angry anymore.

The elevator doors open onto the twelfth floor. Tears are blurring her vision as she strides quickly towards her room. People call to her from the sitting room, but it's not until she feels a warm hand on her elbow that she stops. There is one more person who has drawn her away from rashly lashing out. She still has enough pride left that she doesn't want everyone to see him have to do it again. She replaces her elbow with her hand and pulls Peeta into her room.

He closes the door behind them. Before he can ask her what's wrong, she crashes into him and muffles a sob in his chest. He stiffens momentarily before placing his hands carefully on her back. He lets her cry. The steadiness of his fingers brushing up and down her shoulder blade helps calm her down. It takes less than a minute for her to find her composure. When she does, she takes in a long sigh and turns her head so her cheek is pressed against his wet shirt.

"Sorry," she says.

"It's okay," he replies softly. "What happened?"

"I got nervous on my first shot and misfired pretty badly. I bet my arm's already black and blue."

"Katniss Everdeen got nervous?"

There's a shadow of that dimply smile on his face and her mood lifts, despite her best efforts to feel sorry for herself. She watches his face as he inspects her arm. Sure enough, there is a bright red and purple welt across her forearm. He runs his fingers over it and she flinches.

"Sorry," he apologizes.

"No, it's, um...you didn't, I mean, it didn't hurt."

The color of her face must match redness of the welt. She jumped because of the sparks that shot from his fingertips to her heart. Then, he leans down and she braces herself. His lips feel just as wonderful on her arm as they did on her cheek.

"Better?" he asks.

She just nods.

"So, that's not all this is about, I'm guessing."

Katniss pulls her arm away to cross it over her chest. "I snapped out of it and unloaded almost a whole quiver of arrows. I thought it was really good shooting, and I even added some other weapons stuff in for good measure, but when I looked up at the Game Makers, they were ignoring me. Not one of them was watching. They were all drinking and yelling about some roast pig that had just arrived. I saw the pig, complete with an apple in its mouth, and just lost it. I grabbed another arrow."

"And?"

"I grabbed an arrow and shot the apple right out of the pig's mouth. They...the looks on their faces, Peeta - they must hate me. I mean, I shot an arrow at them! And then I just said 'thanks,' and threw down the bow and left. I just left. I should have apologized. I should have-"

"Katniss," he interrupts, "they can't hate you."

"How do you-"

"Because people are too invested in us. Effie has been talking about what people around the Capitol are saying about us nonstop since I got back. The Game Makers won't just end something like that out of spite. It's a show, like Haymitch said. It's...it's all for entertainment. And we...we're entertaining to them."

They're a couple. She had forgotten. She is half of something that would quickly lose its worth if one of them were to die too soon. They'll keep her on strings until it's time to pick a winner. There's no way they'll let her win. That means she won't be able to keep her promise to Prim. Tears come back.

"Hey now," Peeta says as he puts his hands on her shoulders, "it'll all be fine. One thing at a time, okay? That's the best we can do right now. Why don't we get cleaned up before dinner? I'm sure we'll feel better after we have time to cool down and get something to eat."

She nods.

"Okay. I'll come get you in an hour and we can go together."

She nods again, but with a smile this time. Peeta is right, which is appearing to be a normal occurrence. A shower and fresh clothes that don't remind her of her private session helps her relax. He knocks on her door exactly when he said he would and wraps an arm around her as they walk to dinner.


	10. Chapter 10

After dinner, they all move to the sitting room to watch the unveiling of the training scores. Katniss keeps out of the way as they do, still a little unsure of herself after telling everyone about her private session. Effie had been appalled at the news. Cinna had been pensive and shared a few enigmatic, but significant looks with Portia. Haymitch had laughed. He wasn't making fun of her, though. He seems genuinely pleased with what she had done. Whether that is because it made her stand out or his contempt for the Capitol, she does not know.

Katniss is relieved when Peeta sits next to her. His proximity still makes her slightly uncomfortable, but in a way she has not felt before now. It is, in addition to reassuring, surprisingly pleasant and almost exciting. She doesn't pull away when he moves his leg so their knees are just barely touching. The small connection sends tingles up her back and she crosses her arms to try to hide the embarrassing number of goose bumps that have formed on them.

She has never paid much attention to boys, or anyone for that matter. It had been difficult enough getting to know Gale. Growing up in the Seam has made them both skeptical of other people. It is easier to be distrustful than to waste time trying to figure out who can be trusted and how much you can trust them. She has gotten by trusting her parents and Gale and has never needed anyone else. She doesn't need a boy to hold her hand or tell her she's pretty. Peeta shifts, causing his knee to brush along hers. She really doesn't need it. He glances at her and it makes heat rise in her cheeks. It isn't a need. Maybe it just took her until now to realize that there is a part of her that wants it.

"Oh, here they come," Effie squeals.

Katniss looks up at the screen to see a picture of the boy from 1, whose name is Marvel apparently, come up on the screen. He and the girl from 1, Glimmer, both get high scores, as do Cato and the girl from 2, Clove. She wonders what they did in their sessions. She remembers Cato being handy with a sword, but wishes she had paid more attention to the rest of them instead of ignoring them out of spite.

"I saw Marvel using spears and Clove throwing knives," Peeta says, as reading her mind. "We better watch out for that. She's almost as good as you."

"Cato was using a lot of swords in training, so that's probably what he'll go for," Katniss tells him. "I think I remember Glimmer being a decent shot with a bow. If I don't beat her to it, I hope they have more than one."

They spend the rest of the show recounting what they know about each tribute. Haymitch adds relevant information about mentors and common strategies used by each districts. Effie starts taking notes on a bright pink pad of paper that she pulls from her purse. When she sees Katniss watching her, she smiles brightly.

"Just a bit of market research, you could say," Effie tells her. "I have to know what I'm up against if I want to help you two."

Katniss stares blankly. Maybe there is more to Effie Trinket than she thought, just like Haymitch.

"From District 11…Rue..." Katniss' head snaps back to the screen. "...with a score of…7."

"Wow," Peeta says. "Guess she's got something up her sleeve we'll need to watch for, too."

"I don't think so," Katniss replies.

"Well, she must have gotten a 7 doing something clever."

"No, I mean I don't think we'll need to watch out for her."

Haymitch's eyes are scrutinizing as he says, "Be careful, sweetheart. Other tributes may seem innocent, but don't forget about Joanna Mason."

"No," Katniss says again. "Rue's not like Joanna."

"Katniss, you don't know these people," Peeta reminds her.

"Just like I don't know you."

Peeta physically withdraws at her words, but no one has time to reply as his picture comes up.

"From District 12…Peeta, with a score of…8."

"Oh, Peeta!" Effie says, clapping her hands in excitement.

Congratulations come from around the room at his score, but Katniss keeps her attention on the screen. She has moved her knee away from his and drawn her legs into her chest to avoid further contact. Her picture replaces his.

"From District 12…Katniss, with a score of…11."

The announcer even sounds surprised. Katniss thinks she misheard him until the number "11" comes up beside her face. There is a second-long pause before the room erupts in excitement. Effie is up and dancing. Cinna pulls Katniss into a tight hug and Haymitch is laughing.

"I thought," Katniss starts as Cinna releases her, "I thought they hated me."

"They must have liked that wonderful fiery personality of yours," Haymitch says. "Having a girl with a temper as lethal as her skill with weapons can make things interesting. If everything else goes well, you're gonna get a lot of sponsors, kid."

"To Katniss Everdeen," Cinna says, raising his glass, "the girl on fire!"

The adults toast her, but all she can do is stare dumbly at the screen.

Peeta stands up and mutters, "Congratulations."

She turns only to see him leaving the room. His shoulders are slumped and his hands are buried deep in his pockets. It crosses her mind to go after him, but Haymitch starts talking.

"Alright, so tomorrow we prep for your interviews. You'll spend the morning with Effie, doing all that etiquette stuff, and the afternoon with me for strategy. Breakfast at 8am sharp again. Now, get to bed. You've had a long day and I need to think about how exactly we're going to approach this."

Katniss hurries into the hallway. Her hand hovers over her doorknob as she looks towards Peeta's closed door. She moves closer to the knob, but as she does, the guilt in her stomach grows. With a groan, she steps over to Peeta's door. She takes a deep breath and knocks. Peeta appears a moment later, looking surprised to see her. His eyes quickly fall to the floor.

"Need something?" he asks.

It takes her a moment to put out the fire that flares up inside her at his weary tone. He provoked her, after all. And it's not her fault that she grew up hunting and he didn't, so obviously she was going to get a better score. Baking isn't exactly the most desirable skill, even if it is called the "Hunger Games." She takes a deep breath, but Peeta speaks first.

"Katniss, look, I'm tired. I-"

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry," she repeats a little more forcefully.

"For what?"

She blows a heated breath from her nose. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I didn't mean it."

"It's okay." He's still not looking at her. "It's true. We don't know each other that well. I could turn out to be a cold-blooded killer. We have only known each other for a few days."

"Well, years technically."

"Yeah," he laughs. "I don't think we've ever actually spoken so it hardly counts."

"Why are you being like this?" Katniss demands. "I'm trying to apologize. You know how hard that is for me?"

"Yeah, I know how hard it is for you to be nice."

Her arm flexes involuntarily before she regains control.

"Yeah, go ahead, hit me," he says snidely. "My mother would be glad to know someone's keeping me in line since she's not around."

Katniss immediately goes rigid. Mrs. Mellark has never given anyone the impression that she is a kind lady, but that she lacks motherly compassion entirely is a different beast. Katniss now remembers red marks on his cheeks, long sleeved shirts on hot, muggy days, and ginger movement even outside wrestling season. She thought nothing of those things because she really had never given much thought to him or his home life. She figured boys would be boys. Now that she knows the truth, she feels guilty.

Her emotions must show on her face, because he says softly, "I'm sorry. It's not fair of me to compare you to that. You don't have to be sorry, though. My mother never cared much for me, but I still had it better than a lot of other people. I was just another mouth to feed, but I still got fed."

"Peeta, I had no idea."

He shakes his head with a little smile. "How could you? We didn't really run with the same crowd, remember?"

"I know, but-"

"Katniss, it's fine. It's not like I was expecting someone to come to my rescue. Like I said, I still had it better than a lot of people. Every time it happened, I just counted my blessings to remind myself how much worse it could be."

"I can't even imagine what it's like having a mother that doesn't care for you, though."

"It's alright. You get used to it, I guess. It just becomes part of life."

"Well, if you go home, I bet she'll be feeling pretty shitty, then," she says in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

He does smile a little bit, but it falls away quickly. "You know what she said to me right before we left? She said District 12 might actually have a winner this year. She said, 'she's a fighter, that one.' It's funny because I thought she always hated you. I guess she was more excited about the possibility of having more food for a year."

Katniss does not know how to react. His father had been so kind to wish her luck despite his own son going into the arena, too. Peeta told her he just wanted one of them to go home so 12 could be a little better off. Then his mother just wanted more food. Katniss feels a rush of gratitude for the family she has – her loving parents and precious sister. She knows she would not be nearly the person she is today without them. Then, of course, Peeta, even amidst the adversity of his mother, still managed to take his father's kind example. Before she has a chance to consider her actions, she steps forward and throws her arms around Peeta's chest. He stiffens as he did earlier that day, and then she feels him laugh as she returns her hug.

"Your mood swings are really hard to keep up with," he tells her.

"I've been really stressed lately."

"I can't imagine why."

Their tones are light, but as Peeta replies, he holds her a little tighter. She's glad he doesn't let go because she doesn't want him to see the tears forming in her eyes. He sighs and rests his head against hers.

"This sucks," he says.

Katniss bursts into laughter. The expression squeezes a few tears out and she steps back to wipe them.

"What?" he asks with a short laugh. "It does."

"I'm not arguing. It's just a funny way of describing our, ah, rather unfortunate situation."

"'Rather unfortunate?' Now that's a funny way of describing it."

She smiles at the good-natured look in his eyes and says, "This helps a little bit, though. Laughing, I mean."

"Well, it's about all we can do at the moment."

"Yeah. Oh, by the way, Haymitch said to be at breakfast at 8 again tomorrow. We're doing interview prep. The morning is etiquette training with Effie."

"That sounds like fun."

"I can't wait. And the afternoon is strategy with Haymitch."

Peeta stretches up and holds onto the top of the door frame. "Sounds like a long day."

His hands are flexed and his forearms to firm from holding onto the frame. The sleeves of his t-shirt have fallen back to reveal the lines that define his biceps. His chest is stretched up and his shirt is pulled tight around his sides.

"Katniss?"

She pulls her eyes up to his to see that he is smirking. Her face immediately burns and the carpet becomes incredibly interesting.

"Yeah, probably a long day," she tells the floor, "so I'm gonna go to bed. Goodnight."

Peeta catches her wrist as she turns. His hands are warm.

"Goodnight, Katniss," he says softly.

She looks back at him. His smile is so genuine and understanding that it makes all the embarrassment drain from her face.

"Goodnight, Peeta."

He grins before stepping back into his room. Katniss does have a good night. The thought of Peeta's hand and smile keep her warm. She doesn't stop herself from wondering what his lips would feel like on her cheeks again or on her lips. Even the idea of etiquette training stops seeming so bad since he'll be there with her.

* * *

"I know how to walk," Katniss states flatly.

"But Cinna has you wearing heels tomorrow. That makes it quite a different story," Effie replies. "Besides, you must walk like a young lady."

Peeta snickers from the couch. Katniss shoots him a dirty look.

"You will have your turn for posture and decorum, Peeta," Effie informs him. "Now Katniss, just put these on and walk the length of the room a few times. If you don't have any trouble, then we will move on."

Katniss grumbles as she puts the bright red shoes on her feet. She starts to walk and immediately understands what Effie meant by a "different story." Walking normally is unstable. She keeps hitting the heels on the floor, which does nothing to help her balance. She is about to snap at Peeta for laughing yet again, but Effie come beside her.

"The trick is to walk more on your toes. Watch me."

Effie prances to the other side of the room and back. Her stride is practically a march, but she seems much steadier than Katniss was. Katniss swallows back her pride and attempts to "walk like a young lady." As much as she hates her reflection in the window, she has to admit that it makes walking in such impractical shoes easier. After a few more minutes of practices and posture adjustments, Effie lets her sit down.

"Wonderful," Effie says, though her exasperation wears through her smile. "Your turn, Peeta."

Katniss takes off one of her shoes and throws it at him. He only grins wider.

"Manners! Come here, Peeta. Do stand up straight. Don't stomp your feet."

Katniss isn't sure who the morning is harder for - Effie or them. When it's time to break for lunch, Effie's hair is slightly askew, Katniss' feet and cheeks hurt, and Peeta - well maybe it wasn't so hard for him since he's naturally charming. He spent most of the time laughing at the ridiculous things she had to do.

"You're not smiling," he teases her as they walk to the dining car."You know, scowling gives you wrinkles. Now, walk like a lady. Put your shoulders back because it makes your-"

His own laughter cuts him off. Katniss blushes as she recalls Effie's comments about certain parts of her anatomy. She elbows Peeta in the ribs, but he doesn't stop.

"Yeah," she says, "well I'm surprised she didn't try to give you any tips of how to enhance the size of your-"

"Hurry up and sit down," Haymitch interrupts from the table. "We've got a lot to cover."

Peeta gets in a last snicker, earning a shove from Katniss, before they sit down.

"So from the ruckus and the lack of Effie, I take it that this morning went well."

Katniss scoffs.

"Well, sweetheart, you'll be happy to know that's not the important part of tomorrow night. Yeah, be polite, but be real - which I obviously say conditionally since we're doing this whole love affair. You guys need to be recognizable in the arena, both physically and personality-wise so the audience can stay connected with you. Now, since all of Panem is going to be watching tomorrow, it'll be the perfect opportunity to go public with your relationship. Peeta's going to be the one to do all the confessing for a couple reasons. One, he's got much better control of his emotions than you do. More importantly, he'll be going last and we want this to be the last thing they see on the show."

"Okay, but Katniss brought up something the other day that I wanted to ask you about," Peeta says. "What about the other tributes? They were all glaring at us after the parade and the careers were pretty nasty to us during training. Now Katniss got the highest training score. They don't like us, so we already have targets on our backs. Shouldn't we be careful not to provoke them too much more?"

"You're a threat," Haymitch replies. "At first, it was just competition for people's attention and sponsors' money. With Katniss' score, and even yours, they now know you're a physical threat, too. I won't lie to you. They'll want to hunt you down. They can do that because they have numbers. You're not gonna like this, but you might want to consider taking a few allies. I can talk to some other mentors. Your best bets, though, are probably 3, 7, and 11, maybe 4."

"4?" Peeta asks incredulously. "Careers?"

"I know the mentors. They're not like 1 and 2, but we'll have to see what sort of tributes they've got this year."

"I don't like this," Katniss says. "I don't trust them."

"It's not about trust. It's about staying alive. Look, I'll talk to the other mentors and we'll revisit this later. It is a good point and it shows that you're thinking about this the right way. For now, though, let's focus on the interviews since those are incredibly important regardless."

Katniss crosses her arms. It's hard enough to trust Haymitch and Peeta. There's no way her father could have known that Haymitch would try to stretch her small stock of trust so thin. It makes her feel vulnerable and she hates it. All it would take is turning her back once on one "ally" and that would be it. She has enough people to worry about with just her and Peeta.

"Alright, Katniss," Haymitch says, "Caesar Flickerman is going to interview your first. You can be sure that he'll ask you about Peeta. Don't give anything away. Keep them guessing. They'll hang on your every word, especially since you already have their attention as a competitor. What you still need is their emotional investment. They need to love you. They need to see enough of you to see you as a real person, not just some fiery tart with a bow."

She should be angry at Haymitch's description of her, but she's too distracted by him saying that she'll have to make people like her. Haymitch himself hardly even likes her. Peeta's just kind, which is very unlike people of the Capitol. There's a reason she has so few friends.

"Luckily for you," Haymitch continues, "you have your sister."

Her ears perk up.

"You made quite a stir at the Reaping - across the distracts and the Capitol alike. You can bet that Caesar will ask you about her, too. When he does, just be honest. I think I'm right in saying that even you will be able to pull off real human emotion talking about her."

The three of them spend the next few hours hashing out the love story and addressing details like what to avoid talking about and how to effectively play a Capitol crowd. They spend the most time on the big reveal. Peeta asks how to leave a big impression and Haymitch suggests simply, "Kiss." Katniss is less thrown by his response than she thought she would be. She's not even particularly adverse to it. It makes sense. She makes a point to not look at Peeta, though, because she knows it might shake her calmness.

So when Caesar asks Peeta about their relationship, he'll smile shyly and say that he doesn't think he could express it in words, so he'll show them. And then, he'll kiss her.

After dinner, Katniss sits on her bed and looks out her window. The mountains look impressive in the fading light. They would be pretty if she had time to appreciate pretty things. She wonders how many things she has missed and will miss because of her lot in life. The distant future was never a huge concern until now - now when it's not only uncertain, but hardly a possibility. She would probably have grown up and continued to take care of Prim. Prim would likely get married, though. Gale, then. She could live life with her best friend. Who kissed her. Who seems to want to grow old with her much differently than she can see herself growing old with him. He will find someone else. He and Madge seem to get on well enough, regardless of his prejudice against people from town. Katniss had held the same prejudice at one point. Gale's disgruntlement had rubbed off on her. Besides her mother, Madge, and Mr. Mellark, she had never really met anyone from town who contradicted the image Gale painted. Well, she hadn't really met anyone from town at all.

There is a knock on the door and Katniss yells, "What?"

"Uh, it's me. I mean, it's Peeta. Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Peeta?"

"Oh, um, do you mind if I come in?"

"I thought that was implied when I said, 'yeah.'"

"Oh. Sorry."

He pushes the door open and slides in against the wall. He glances at the door nervously.

"You can close it if you want," Katniss says.

Once the door is shut, he leans back against it. He hasn't looked at her yet.

"Need something?" she asks in a mockingly glum tone.

He smiles and finally looks up. He takes a few steps so he's by the foot of her bed. Then, he puts his hands in his pockets, making him look anxious again.

"Is something wrong?"

He shakes his head, but his eyes fall to the blanket.

"Spit it out, Peeta."

He replies, "You really know how to put people at ease, you know that?"

"One of my many talents."

"Yeah."

He's giving her that weird look again. She doesn't think she minds his attention, but she doesn't know how to react to it. This captivated curiosity makes her the bad kind of uncomfortable. She can't remember anyone gazing at her the way he is right now. It makes her feel exposed. It makes her feel like she's being scrutinized and considered at a level deeper than anyone has ever dared.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Katniss asks, hoping to break his stare.

"Oh, um, well, kind of the interview. You didn't really say anything, so I was just wondering how you felt about how, uh, about how things are going to happen."

She looks away from him, just as she did when they were talking about it with Haymitch. How does she feel about it? Her mother and father have given her plenty of kisses. How different could it be really? Cheek or lips, it's all just skin. Peeta's skin, though. On hers. The skin of Peeta's lips on her lips.

"It's just a kiss," she says quickly.

"I guess. Have you been kissed before?"

"No," she answers immediately. "Well, yes."

"Gale?"

"How'd you know?"

Peeta looks surprised. "Oh, well, everyone figured you guys are a couple."

"A couple? Oh, no, not at all. We're just friends."

"Who kiss?"

"Kissed," she corrects. "Once. Well, he kissed me. I, uh..."

She was shocked. She didn't react. She just froze. Gale didn't seem to notice, though, or at least he didn't care much that she didn't kiss him back. He must have known that he would be catching her by complete surprise. Maybe he knew that she wouldn't have let him unless he did surprise her.

"You what?" Peeta asks.

She shakes her head. "Nothing. He just kissed me after the Reaping. And then he left. And that was that."

That is that. She will never see him again. Maybe it's better this way. She won't have to hurt him by telling him that she doesn't feel the same way. He can go on with the full range of "what ifs" without her souring them with her very unromantic feelings towards him.

"Did you kiss him back?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I was just wondering."

She regards him for a moment. He's keeping his face very neutral.

"No," she answers, "I didn't."

He can't hide the tenseness leaving his shoulders.

"I thought you wanted to talk about the interview," she says.

"I did. I am. We are. Sort of. Well, that's part of it."

He starts pacing. Katniss does not know what to make of his erratic, uncharacteristic behavior. It's doing nothing to quell her own discomfort, which is strange because he's been able to calm her down before this. She folds her arms and draws her legs into herself. He must notice, because he stops and looks at her with something like desperation in his eyes.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm being stupid," he says. "I've just never done this before and I don't really know how it goes. I also didn't realize how terrifying it is."

"What is?" she asks carefully.

"Can I...can I sit down?"

She nods, but curls up a little tighter. He sits down near the end of her bed. It takes him a second to gather his thoughts, and then he looks at her seriously.

"I've learned that you appreciate bluntness," he says, making her smile a little, "so I'm just going to say it. Whether you liked it or not, I've enjoyed getting to know you over the past week. I've really enjoyed it, actually. So much that if we were back in 12, I'd like to continue getting to know you. For a long time. I like you, Katniss, and I wanted to tell you before all this stuff happens. I'm not expecting anything from you. We've only really known each other for a few days and even I'm a little surprised at my feelings, so I'm not expecting you to tell me that you feel the same way. I just wanted you to know that I respect you a lot and I'm sorry that the first time I get to kiss you is for an audience rather than just for us."

She's blushing and her heart is pounding all the way up into her throat. This is exactly the opposite type of surprise from what she felt with Gale. She's actually happy. She's that along with scared. The feelings racing around her body are completely foreign, especially the sudden urge to press her body up against his and kiss him in that open-mouthed way she has overheard girls talking about at school. She is so unsure of how to react to everything that she forgets to keep her mixed emotions off of her face. Of course, she only realizes her mistake after Peeta is nearly at the door.

"I'm sorry if I upset you or anything," he says quickly. "I just needed to get it off my chest."

His hand is on the doorknob when she says, "No, Peeta. Don't go."

She had intended to say "stop," but her impulsive words are closer to what she means. She slides off her bed, but when she stands, she realizes that she has not figured out what to do next. He smiles at her.

"Funny enough," he says, leaning his back against the door, "this is actually one of the things I like about you. You're so strong and set in your convictions that new things get your feathers all ruffled."

"You mean I'm stubborn?"

"That's one way of putting it, but that's not really how I see it. You're just trying to do right by the people you love. You're doing what you can to survive, even if it means putting on an act, so you can go home to your family. You're not too quick to trust people and you're incredibly defensive, physically and emotionally, because that helps you protect your family, too."

"I think you're seeing me in a better light than you should."

"Exactly. I see you in better light so I can see you better than you can see yourself. You don't give yourself enough credit."

There is no lie in his eyes. His tone is too earnest and his responses are too natural for him to be lying. What she can't figure out is why he is telling her all of these things. She doesn't know what would make him feel like she needs to know. One or both of them will be gone within a week and at that point, it won't make a difference. Fleeting things like emotions are not worth dwelling on in this world.

"Pretty sunset," Peeta says, looking out the window.

It is. Now, even Katniss cannot deny that the mountains look incredible. They're silhouetted on the horizon, dark against the fiery sky.

"The light really makes you look wonderful," he whispers.

She stops thinking. Her feet move her to Peeta and her arms reach for his neck at the same time as her lips reach for his. It's indescribable, but it makes her give a sigh so soft that it's nearly a whimper. His hands are hot and wonderful as they move up her back to hold her against him gently. The soft caressing of his lips makes her senses numb to everything in the world except him. Every part of her is so overloaded with a pure bliss that she wouldn't be able to feel anything else, anyway. It's new, it's exhilarating, and it's perfect.

After only a few seconds, the kiss ends. Peeta pulls back, panting. She leans forward, try to keep his lips for as long as she can, and stumbles into him. He catches her by wrapping his arms further around her. It is then that she notices the way that her hands are clutching his shirt and how she doesn't want to let go.

"Wow," he breathes, looking dazed. "I honestly wasn't expecting that."

"Me either."

"Why'd you - I mean, well, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but why did you do that?"

"I'm...not exactly sure," she admits.

"You know, I wasn't trying to get you to kiss me when I said all that. I don't want pity."

He withdraws his hands and she shakes her head quickly, saying, "No. It wasn't pity. It just, I don't know exactly what made me do it. I wasn't thinking. But I don't think, well, I don't know."

He smiles sadly as he removes himself from between her and the door. She feels panic start to rise in her chest. She didn't mean to hurt him. She did want to kiss him. She fantasized about it last night. For some reason, she just can't get the right words out. This must have been what he was talking about when he said that revealing feelings for someone is terrifying. For Katniss, revealing any emotion at all is difficult. Her feelings towards Peeta are that much more troublesome because they're new and she hasn't even worked out what they are in her head. The only thing she knows is that he's different than anyone she has ever met before.

"Goodnight, Katniss. I'll see you tomorrow."

She just nods. He looks at her for a second, and then disappears through the door. She isn't sure how long she stands there, but by the time she can move, her back is sore. When she falls on her bed, she stares at the ceiling. She replays the kiss over and over in her mind. It was nice. It was a lot nicer than Gale's. Whenever she thinks back to Gale's, it's with discomfort and a twinge of guilt. At the thought of Peeta's, she smiles, but feels regret, too. She regrets not telling him that she liked it and that she's actually looking forward to his interview because she'll get to do it again. Now he probably just thinks she did it because he likes her and she was just having a rare kind moment. That was part of it, but certainly not all of it.

Her mind becomes tired from keeping up with the thoughts racing around it. There are only so many ways to remember Peeta's lips and so many times she can attempt to sort out what she is feeling. She drifts off to sleep at some point long past the sunset. The next morning, Cinna and her prep team come to wake her up to get her ready for the interview.


End file.
